/ 



VOYAGE 



THE PAPER CANOE: 



A GEOGRAPHICAL JOURNEY OF 2500 MILES, FROM 

QUEBEC TO THE GULF OF MEXICO, 

DURING THE YEARS 1874-5. 



BY 



NATHANIEL H. BISHOP, 

AUTHOR OF "one THOUSAND MILES' WALK ACROSS SOUTH AMERICA,' 

AND CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE BOSTON SOCIETY 

OF NATURAL HISTORY, AND OF THE NEW 

YORK ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. 






BOSTON: 

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 

NEW YORK: CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. 
1878. 



COPYRIGHT 

• 1878, 

By N. H. Bishop. 




Electrotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
19 Spring Lane. 



TO THE 

SUPERINTENDENT, ASSISTANTS, AIDS, AND ALL 
EMPLOYES OF THE 

UNITED STATES COAST SURVEY BUREAU, 

THE 

" Voyage of the Paper Canoe " 

IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, 

AS A SLIGHT EVIDENCE OF THE APPRECIATION BY ITS AUTHOR FOR 

THEIR INTELLIGENT EFFORTS AND SELF-DENYING LABORS 

IN THE SERVICE OP THEIR COUNTRY, SO PATIENTLY 

AND SKILFULLY PERFORMED, UNDER MANY 

DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The author left Quebec, Dominion of Canada, 
July 4, 1874, with a single assistant, in a wooden 
canoe eighteen feet in length, bound for the Gulf of 
Mexico. It was his intention to follow the natural 
and artificial connecting watercourses of the con- 
tinent in the most direct line southward to the gulf 
coast of Florida, making portages as seldom as 
possible, to show how few were the interruptions to 
a continuous water-way for vessels of light draught, 
from the chilly, foggy, and rocky regions of the Gulf 
of St. Lawrence in the north, to the semi-tropical 
waters of the great Southern Sea, the waves of which 
beat upon the sandy shores of the southernmost 
United States. Having proceeded about four hun- 
dred miles upon his voyage, the author reached 
Troy, on the Hudson River, New York state, where 
for several years E. Waters & Sons had been per- 
fecting the construction of paper boats. 

The advantages in using a boat of only fifty-eight 
pounds weight, the strength and durability of which 
had been well and satisfactorily tested, could not 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

be questioned, and the author dismissed his assist- 
ant, and " paddled his own canoe " about two thou- 
sand miles to the end of the journey. Though 
frequently lost in the labyrinth of creeks and marshes 
which skirt the southern coast of his country, the 
author's difficulties were greatly lessened by the use 
of the valuable and elaborate charts of the United 
States Coast Survey Bureau, to the faithful exe- 
cuters of which he desires to give unqualified and 
grateful praise. 

To an unknown wanderer among the creeks, rivers, 
and sounds of the coast, the courteous treatment of 
the Southern people was most gratifying. The 
author can only add to this expression an extract 
from his reply to the address of the Mayor of St. 
Mary's, Georgia, which city honored him with an 
ovation and presentation of flags after the comple- 
tion of his voyage : 

" Since my little paper canoe entered southern 
waters upon her geographical errand, — from the 
capes of the Delaware to your beautiful St. Mary's, 
— I have been deeply sensible of the value of 
Southern hospitality. The oystermen and fishermen 
living along the lonely beaches of the eastern shore 
of Maryland and Virginia ; the surfmen and light- 
house keepers of Albemarle, Pamplico, and Core 
sounds, in North Carolina ; the ground-nut planters 
who inhabit the uplands that skirt the network of 
creeks, marshes, ponds, and sounds from Bogue 
Inlet to Cape Fear ; the piny-woods people, lum- 



INTRODUCTION. Vll 

bermen, and turpentine distillers on the little bluffs 
that jut into the fastnesses of the great swamps of the 
crooked Waccamaw River ; the representatives of 
the once powerful rice-planting aristocracy of the 
Santee and Peedee rivers ; the colored men of the 
beautiful sea-islands along the coast of Georgia ; 
the Floridians living between the St. Mary's River 
and the Suwanee — the wild river of song ; the 
islanders on the Gulf of Mexico where I terminated 
my long journey ; — all have contributed to make the 
' Voyage of the Paper Canoe ' a success." 

After returning from this paper-canoe voyage, the 
author embarked alone, December 2, 1875, in a cedar 
duck-boat twelve feet in length, from the head of 
the Ohio River, at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and 
followed the Ohio and Mississippi rivers over two 
thousand miles to New Orleans, where he made a 
portage through that city eastwardly to Lake Pont- 
chartrain, and rowed along the shores of the Gulf 
of Mexico six or seven hundred miles, to Cedar 
Keys, Florida, the terminus of his paper-canoe 
voyage. 

While on these two voyages, the author rowed over 
five thousand miles, meeting with but one accident, 
the overturning of his canoe in Delaware Bay. 
He returned to his home with his boats in good 
condition, and his note-books, charts, &c., in an 
excellent state of preservation. 

At the request of the "Board on behalf of the 
United States Executive Department" of the Cen- 



Vlll INTRODUCTION. 

tennial Exhibition at Philadelphia, the paper canoe 
"Maria Theresa," and the cedar duck-boat "Cen- 
tennial Republic," were deposited in the Smithsonian 
Department of the United States Government build- 
ing, during the summer and fall of 1876. 

The maps, which show the route followed by 
the paper canoe, have been drawn and engraved 
by contract at the United States Coast Survey Bu- 
reau, and are on a scale of y.yoT.o^oT* ^^ ^^^ work 
is based on the results of actual surveys, these 
maps may be considered, for their size, the most 
complete of the United States coast ever presented 
to the public. 

Much credit is due to Messrs. "Waud and Merrill 
for the artistic results of their pencils, and to Messrs. 
John Andrew & Son for their skill in engraving the 
illustrations. 

To the readers of the author's first book of trav- 
els, " The Pampas and Andes ; a Thousand Miles' 
Walk across South America," which journey was 
undertaken when he was but seventeen years of 
age, the writer would say that their many kind and 
appreciative letters have prompted him to send forth 
this second book of travels — the " Voyage of the 
Paper Canoe." 

Lake George, Warren County, N. Y., 
January i, 1878. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE APPROACHES TO THE WATER-WAY OF THE 
CONTINENT. 

Island of St. Paul. — The Portals of the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence. — The Extinct Auk. — Anticosti Island. — 
Icebergs. — Sailors' Superstitions. — The Estuary of 
the St. Lawrence. — Tadousac. — The Saguenay Riv- 
er. — White Whales. — Quebec 



CHAPTER H. 

FROM QUEBEC TO SOREL. 

The Water- Way into the Continent. — The Western and 
THE Southern Route to the Gulf of Mexico. — The 
Mayeta. — Commencement of the Voyage. — Ascent of 
the River St. Lawrence. — Lake of St. Peter. — Aca- 
dian Town of Sorel 12 

CHAPTER HI. 

FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER TO TICONDEROGA, 
LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 

The Richelieu River. — Acadian Scenes. — St. Ours. — St. 
Antoine. — St. Marks. — Belceil. — Chambly Canal. — St. 
Johns. — Lake Champlain. — The Great Ship Canal. — 
David Bodfish's Camp. — The Adirondack Survey. — A 
Canvas Boat. — Dimensions of Lake Champlain. — Port 
Kent. — Ausable Chasm. — Arrival at Ticonderoga . . 22 

ix 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IV. 

FROM LAKES GEORGE AND CHAMPLAIN TO THE 
HUDSON RIVER. 

The Discovery of Lake George by Father Jogues. — A 
Pedestrian Journey. — The Hermit of the Narrows. — 
CoN\^NT OF St. Mary's of the Lake. — The Paulist 
Fathers. — Canal Route from Lake Champlain to Al- 
bany. — BoDFisH returns TO New Jersey. — The Little 
Fleet in its Haven of Rest 42 



CHAPTER V. 

THE AMERICAN PAPER BOAT AND ENGLISH CANOES. 

The Peculiar Character of the Paper Boat. — The His- 
tory OF the Adoption of Paper for Boats. — A Boy's 
Ingenuity. — The Process of building Paper Boats de- 
scribed. — College Clubs adopting them. — The Great 
Victories won by Paper over Wooden Shells in 1876 . . 57 

CHAPTER VI. 

FROM TROY TO PHILADELPHIA. 

Paper Canoe Maria Theresa. — The Start. — The Descent 
of the Hudson River. — Crossing the Upper Bay of 
New York. — Passage of the Kills. — Raritan River. — 
The Canal Route from New Brunswick to the Dela- 
ware River. — From Bordentown to Philadelphia ... 71 

CHAPTER VII. 

FROM PHILADELPHIA TO CAPE HENLOPEN. 

Descent of Delaware River. — My First Camp. — Bombay 
Hook. — Murderkill Creek. — A Storm in Delaware 
Bay. — Capsizing of the Canoe. — A Swim for Life. — 
The Persimmon Grove. — Willow Grove Inn. — The 
Lights of Capes May and Henlopen 98 



CONTENTS. XI 

CHAPTER VIII. 

FROM CAPE HENLOPEN TO NORFOLK, VIRGINIA. 

The Portage to Love Creek.— The Delaware Whipping- 
post. — Rehoboth and Indian River Bays. — A Portage 
TO Little Assawaman Bay. — Isle of Wight Bay. — Win- 
chester Plantation. — Chincoteague. — Watchapreague 
Inlet. — Cobb's Island. — Cherrystone. — Arrival at 
Norfolk. — The "Landmark's" Enterprise 114 

CHAPTER IX. 

FROM NORFOLK TO CAPE HATTERAS. 

The Elizabeth River. — The Canal. — North Landing 
River. — Currituck Sound. — Roanoke Island. — Visit 
to Body Island Light-House. — A Romance of His- 
tory. — Pamplico Sound. — The Paper Canoe arrives 
AT Cape Hatteras . 148 



CHAPTER X. 

FROM CAPE HATTERAS TO CAPE FEAR, NORTH 
CAROLINA. 

Cape Hatteras Light. — Habits of Birds. — Storm at 
Hatteras Inlet. — Miles of Wrecks. — The Yacht Ju- 
lia searching for the Paper Canoe. — Chased by 
Porpoises. — Marsh Tackies. — Ocracoke Inlet. — A 
Graveyard being swallowed up by the Sea. — Core 
Sound. — Three Weddings at Hunting Quarters. — 
Morehead City. — Newbern. — Swansboro. — A Peanut 
Plantation. — The Route to Cape Fear 180 



CHAPTER XI. 

FROM CAPE FEAR TO CHARLESTON, SOUTH 
CAROLINA. 

A Portage to Lake Waccamaw. — Submerged Swamps. — 
'Night at a Turpentine Distillery. — A Dismal Wil- 



Xll CONTENTS. 

DERNESS. — Owls and Mistletoe. — Crackers and Ne- 
groes. — Across the South Carolina Line. — A Crack- 
er's Idea of Hospitality. — Pot Bluff. — Peedee 
River. — Georgetown. — Winyah Bay. — The Rice Plan- 
tations OF THE SaNTEE RiVERS. — A NiGHT WITH THE 

Santee Negroes. — Arrival at Charleston 216 



CHAPTER XII. 

FROM CHARLESTON TO SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. 

The Interior Water Route to Jehossee Island. — Gov- 
ernor Aiken's Model Rice Plantation. — Lost in the 
Horns. — St. Helena Sound. — Lost in the Night. — 
The Phantom Ship. — The Finlander's Welcome. — A 
Night on the Emperor's Old Yacht. — The Phosphate 
Mines. — Coosaw and Broad Rivers. — Port Royal 
Sound and Calibogue Sound. — Cuffy's Home. — Ar- 
rival in Georgia. — Receptions at Greenwich Shoot- 
ing-Park 261 

CHAPTER XIII. 

FROM THE SAVANNAH RIVER TO FLORIDA. 

Route to the Sea Islands of Georgia. — Storm-bound 
on Green Island. — Ossabaw Island. — St. Catherine's 
Sound. — Sapelo Island. — The Mud of Mud River. — 
Night in a Negro Cabin. — "De Shoutings" on Doboy 
Island. — Broughton Island. — St. Simon's and Jekyl 
Islands. — Interview with an Alligator. — A Night 
IN Jointer Hammock. — Cumberland Island and St. 
Mary's River. — Farewell to the Sea 291 

CHAPTER XIV. 

ST. MARY'S RIVER AND THE SUWANEE WILDERNESS. 

A Portage to Dutton. — Descent of the St. Mary's 
River. — Fete given by the Citizens to the Paper 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

Canoe. — The proposed Canal Route across Florida. — 
A Portage to the Suwanee River. — A Negro speaks 
on Electricity and the Telegraph. — A Freedman's 
Sermon 313 



CHAPTER XV. 

DOWN UPON THE SUWANEE RIVER. 

The Rich Foliage of the River. — Columbus. — Rolins' 
Bluff. — Old Town Hammock. — A Hunter killed by 
a Panther. — Dangerous Serpents. — Clay Landing. — 
The Marshes of the Coast. — Bradford's Island. — 
My Last Camp. — The Voyage ended 334 



LIST OF MAPS 

DRAWN AND ENGRAVED AT THE 

UNITED STATES COAST SURVEY BUREAU, 

FOR THE "VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE." 

Page 

1. General Map of Routes followed by the Au- 

thor DURING TWO Voyages made to the Gulf 
of Mexico, Opposite i 

GUIDE MAPS OF CANOE ROUTE. 

2. From Quebec, Canada, to Plattsburgh, New York 

State, 12 

3. From Plattsburgh to Albany, 42 

4. From Albany to New York City, 71 

5. From New York City to Cape Henlopen, Del- 

aware, 98 

6. From Cape Henlopen, Delaware, to Norfolk, 

Virginia 114 

7. From Norfolk, Virginia, to Bogue Inlet, North 

Carolina, 148 

8. From Bogue Inlet, North Carolina, to Bull's 

Bay, South Carolina, 180 

9. From Bull's Bay, South Carolina, to St. Simon's 

Sound, Georgia, 261 

10. From St. Simon's Sound, Georgia, to Cedar Keys, 

Florida, 317 

xiv 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Engraved by John Andrew & Son. 

Page 

1. Great Auk {A lea iinpetmis). Extinct ii 

2. Anchored at last, 56 

3. A FULL-RIGGED NAUTILUS CanOE, 57 

4. The Rob Roy Canoe, 68 

5. The Aboriginal Type, 74 

Photographed at Disco, Greenland. 

6. The Improved Type. — Paper Canoe Maria The- 

resa, 74 

7. A Capsize in Delaware Bay, 108 

8. Delaware Whipping-Post and Pillory, 147 

9. Body Island Light House, 179 

10. Crossing Hatteras Inlet, 190 

11. Reception at Charleston Post-Office, 259: 

12. Home of the Alligator, 308 

13. The Panther's Leap, 345 

14. The Voyage ended, 351 , 

XV 



MAP OF ROUTES 

FOLLOWEDBY N.H. BISHOP 

IN PAPER CANOE'MARIA THERESA" 

AND DUCK BOAT'CENTENNIAL REPUBLIC' 

I874--I876 







Slulute ililt 



Copyright. 1876, hy La. i Shepard 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE APPROACHES TO THE WATER-WAY OF THE 
CONTINENT. 

ISLAND OF ST. PAUL. — THE PORTALS OF THE GULF OF ST. 
LAWRENCE. — THE EXTINCT AUK. — ANTICOSTI ISLAND. — 
ICEBERGS. — sailors' SUPERSTITIONS. — THE ESTUARY OF THE 
ST. LAWRENCE. — TADOUSAC. — THE SAGUENAY RIVER. — WHITE 
WHALES. — QUEBEC. 

WHILE on his passage to the ports of the 
St. Lawrence River, the mariner first 
sights the little island of St. Paul, situated in 
the waste of waters between Cape Ray, the south- 
western point of Newfoundland on the north, 
and Cape North, the northeastern projection of 
Cape Breton Island on the south. Across this 
entrance to the Gulf of St. Lawrence from cape 
to cape is a distance of fifty-four nautical miles; 
and about twelve miles east-northeast from Cape 
North the island of St. Paul, with its three hills 
and two light-towers, rises from the sea with 
deep waters on every side. 

This wide inlet into the gulf may be called the 
I I 



2 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

middle portal, for at the northern end of New- 
foundland, between the great island and the 
coast of Labrador, another entrance exists, 
which is known as the Straits of Belle Isle, 
and is sometimes called " the shorter passage 
from England." Still to the south of the mid- 
dle entrance is another and a very narrow one, 
known as the Gut of Canso, which separates 
the island of Cape Breton from Nova Scotia. 
Through this contracted thoroughfare the tides 
run with great force. 

One hundred years ago, as the seaman ap- 
proached the dangerous entrance of St. Paul, 
now brightened at night by its light-towers, his 
heart was cheered by the sight of immense 
flocks of a peculiar sea-fowl, now extinct. 
When he saw upon the water the Great Auk 
(^Alca impennis), which he ignorantly called 
" a pengwin," he knew that land was near at 
hand, for while he met other species far out 
upon the broad Atlantic, the Great Auk, his 
"pengwin," kept near the coast. Not only was 
this now extinct bird his indicator of proximity 
to the land, but so strange were its habits, and 
so innocent was its nature, that it permitted 
itself to be captured by boat-loads; and thus 
were the ships re-victualled at little cost or 
trouble. Without any market-value a century 
ago, the Great Auk now, as a stuffed skin, rep- 
resents a value of fifteen hundred dollars in 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 3 

gold. There are but seventy-two specimens of 
this bird in the museums of Europe and Amer- 
ica, besides a few skeletons, and sixty-five of its 
eggs. It was called in ancient days Gare-fowl, 
and was the Goiful of the Icelander. 

Captain Whitbourne, who wrote in the reign 
of James the First, quaintly said: "These Pen- 
gwins are as bigge as Geese, and flye not, for 
they have but a little short wing, and they mul- 
tiply so infinitely upon a certain flat island that 
men drive them from thence upon a board into 
their boats by hundreds at a time, as if God had 
made the innocency of so poor a creature to 
become such an admerable instrument for the 
sustenation of man." 

In a copy of the English Pilot, " fourth book," 
published in 1761, which I presented to the 
librar}' of the United States Coast Survey, is 
found this early description of this now extinct 
American bird: "They never go beyond the 
bank [Newfoundland] as others do, for they are 
always on it, or in it, several of them together, 
sometimes more but never less than two to- 
gether. They are large fowls, about the size 
of a goose, a coal-black head and back, with a 
white belly and a milk-white spot under one of 
their eyes, which nature has ordered to be under 
their right eye." 

Thus has the greed of the sailor and pot- 
hunter swept from the face of the earth an old 



y 
4 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

pilot — a trusty aid to navigation. Now the 
light-house, the fog-gun, and the improved chart 
have taken the place of the extinct auk as aids 
to navigation, and the sailor of to-day sees the 
bright flashes of St. Paul's lights when nearly 
twenty miles at sea. Having passed the little 
isle, the ship enters the great Gulf of St. Law- 
rence, and passes the Magdalen Islands, shaping 
its course as wind and weather permit towards 
the dreaded, rocky coast of Anticosti. From the 
entrance of the gulf to the island of Anticosti 
the course to be followed is northwesterly about 
one hundred and thirt3^-five nautical miles. The 
island which divides an upper arm of the gulf 
into two wide channels is one hundred and 
twenty-three miles long, and from ten to thirty 
miles wide. Across the entrance of this great 
arm, or estuary, from the high cape of Gaspe 
on the southern ^hore of the mainland to Anti- 
costi in the narrowest place, is a distance of 
about forty miles, and is called the South Chan- 
nel. From the north side of the island and near 
its west end to the coast of Labrador the North 
Channel is fifteen miles wide. The passage from 
St. Paul to Anticosti is at times dangerous. Here 
is an area of strong currents, tempestuous winds, 
and dense fogs. When the wind is fair for an 
upward run, it is the wind which usually brings 
misty weather. Then, from the icy regions of 
the Arctic circle, from the Land of Desolation, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 5 

come floating through the Straits of Belle Isle 
the dangerous bergs and ice-fields. Early in the 
spring these ice rafts are covered with colonies 
of seals which resort to them for the purpose of 
giving birth to their young. On these icy cra- 
dles, rocked by the restless waves, tens of thou- 
sands of young seals are nursed for a few days ; 
then, answering the loud calls of their mothers, 
they accompany them into the briny deep, there 
to follow the promptings of their instincts. The 
loud roarings of the old seals on these ice rafts 
can be heard in a quiet night for several miles, 
and strike terror into the hearts of the super- 
stitious sailor who is ignorant of the origin of 
the tumult. 

Frequently dense fogs cover the water, and 
while slowly moving along, guided only by the 
needle, a warning sound alarms the watchful 
master. Through the heavy mists comes the 
roar of breaking waters. He listens. The dull, 
swashy noise of waves meeting with resistance 
is now plainly heard. The atmosphere becomes 
suddenl}^ chilled: it is the breath of the ice- 
berg! 

Then the shrill cry of "All hands on deck!" 
startles the watch below from the bunks. Anx- 
iously now does the whole ship's company lean 
upon the weather-rail and peer out into the thick 
air with an earnestness born of terror. " Surely," 
says the master to his mate, " I am past the Mag- 



6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

dalens, and still far from Anticosti, yet we have 
breakers; which way can we turn? " The riddle 
solves itself, for out of the gloom come whitened 
walls, beautiful but terrible to behold. 

Those terror-stricken sailors watch the slowly 
moving berg as it drifts past their vessel, fearing 
that their own ship will be drawn towards it 
from the peculiar power of attraction they believe 
the iceberg to possess. And as they watch, 
against the icy base of the mountain in the sea 
the waves beat and break as if expending their 
forces upon a rocky shore. Down the furrowed 
sides of the disintegrating berg streamlets trickle, 
and miniature cascades leap, mingling their 
waters with the briny sea. The intruder slowly 
drifts out of sight, disappearing in the gloom, 
while the sailor thanks his lucky stars that he has 
rid himself of another danger. The ill-omened 
Anticosti, the graveyard of many seamen, is yet 
to be passed. The ship skirts along its southern 
shore, a coast destitute of bays or harbors of 
any kind, rock-bound and inhospitable. 

Wrecks of vessels strew the rocky shores, and 
four light-houses warn the mariner of danger. 
Once past the island the ship is well within the 
estuary of the gulf into which the St. Lawrence 
River flows, contributing the waters of the great 
lakes of the continent to the sea. As the north 
coast is approached the superstitious sailor is 
again alarmed if, perchance, the compass-needle 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 7 

shows sympathy with some disturbing element, 
the cause of which he believes to exist in the 
mountains which rise along the shore. He re- 
peats the stories of ancient skippers, of vessels 
having been lured out of their course by the 
deviation of the guiding-needle, which suc- 
cumbed to the potent influence exerted in those 
hills of iron ore; heeding not the fact that the 
disturbinof ag-ent is the iron on board of his own 
ship, and not the magnetic oxide of the distant 
mines. 

The ship being now within the estuary of the 
St. Lawrence River, must encounter many risks 
before she reaches the true mouth of the river, 
at the Bic Islands. 

The shores along this arm of the gulf are wild 
and sombre. Rocky precipices frown upon the 
swift tidal current that rushes past their bases. 
A few small settlements of fishermen and pilots, 
like Metis, Father Point, and Rimousky, are 
discovered at long intervals along the coast. 

In these St. Lawrence hamlets, and through- 
out Lower Canada, a patois is spoken which is 
unintelligible to the Londoner or Parisian; and 
these villagers, the descendants of the French 
colonists, may be said to be a people destitute 
of a written language, and strangers to a litera- 
ture. 

While holding a commission from Francis the 
First, king of France, Jacques Cartier discovered 



8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the Gulf of St. Lawrence, during his first voy- 
age of exploration in the new world. He en- 
tered the gulf on St. Lawrence's day, in the 
spring of 1534, and named it in honor of the 
event. Cartier explored no farther to the west 
than about the mouth of the estuary which is 
divided by the island of Anticosti. It was dur- 
ing his second voyage, in the following year, 
that he discovered and explored the great river. 
Of the desolate shores of Labrador, on the 
north coast, he said, " It might as well as not 
be taken for the country assigned by God to 
Cain." 

The distance from Quebec to Cape Gaspe, 
measured upon a course which a steamer would 
be compelled to take, is four hundred and seven 
statute miles. The ship first enters the current 
of the river St. Lawrence at the two Bic 
Islands, where it has a width of about twenty 
miles. By consulting most maps the reader will 
find that geographers carry the river nearly two 
hundred miles beyond its usual current. In fact, 
they appropriate the whole estuary, which, in 
places, is nearly one hundred miles in width, 
and call it a river — a river which lacks the 
characteristics of a river, the currents of which 
vary with the winds and tidal influences, and 
the waters of which are as salt as those of the 
briny deep. 

Here, in the mouth of the river, at the Bics, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 9 

secure anchorage for vessels may be found; but 
below, in the estuary, for a distance of more 
than two hundred and forty-five miles, to Gaspe, 
there is but one port of refuge, that of Seven 
Islands, on the north coast. 

As the ship ascends the river from Bic Islands, 
a passage of about one hundred and sixty statute 
miles to Quebec, she struggles against a strong 
current. Picturesque islands and little villages, 
such as St. Andre, St. Anne, St. Rogue, St. Jean, 
and St. Thomas, relieve the monotony. But very 
different is the winter aspect of this river, when 
closed to navigation by ice from November until 
spring. Of the many tributaries which give 
strength to the current of the St. Lawrence and 
contribute to its glory, the Saguenay River with 
its remarkable scenery is counted one of the 
wonders of our continent. It joins the great 
river from the north shore, about one hundred 
and thirty-four statute miles below Quebec. 
Upon the left bank, at its mouth, nestles the 
little village of Tadousac, the summer retreat 
of the governor-general of the Dominion of 
Canada. 

American history claims for the Roman Cath- 
olic church of this settlement an age second 
only to that of the old Spanish cathedral at St. 
Augustine, Florida. For three hundred years 
the storms of winter have beaten upon its walls, 
but it stands a silent yet eloquent monument of 



lO VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the pious zeal of the ancient Fathers, who came 
to conquer Satan in the wilderness of a new 
world. The Saguenay has become the " Mecca" 
of northern tourists, ever attracting them with 
its wild and fascinating scenery. Capes Eternity 
and Trinity guard the entrance to Eternity Bay. 
The first towers sublimely to a height of eigh- 
teen hundred feet, the other is only a little 
lower. A visit to this mysterious river, with its 
deep, dark waters and picturesque views, will 
repay the traveller for the discomforts of a long 
and expensive journey. 

Where the turbulent current of the Saguenay 
mingles angrily with that of the St. Lawrence, 
there may be seen disporting in the waves the 
white whale of aquariums, which is not a whale 
at all, but a true porpoise {^DeJphinoptei'iis ca- 
todon, as he is now called by naturalists), having 
teeth in the jaws, and being destitute of the 
fringed bone of the whalebone whales. This 
interesting creature is very abundant in the Arc- 
tic Ocean on both the Atlantic and Pacific sides, 
and has its southern limits in the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence, although one is occasionally seen in 
the Bay of Fundy, and it is reported to have 
been observed about Cape Cod, on the Massa- 
chusetts coast. 

As the ship nears the first great port of the 
St. Lawrence River, the large and well culti- 
vated island of Orleans is passed, and the bold 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



II 



fortifications of Quebec, high up on the face of 
Point Diamond, and flanked by the houses of the 
French city, break upon the vision of the mari- 
ner. To the right, and below the cit}^, which 
Champlain founded, and in which his unknown 
ashes repose, are the beautiful Falls of Montmo- 
rency, gleaming in all the whiteness of their 
falling waters and mists, like the bridal veil of a 
giantess. The vessel has safely made her pas- 
sage, and now comes to anchor in the Basin of 
Quebec. The sails are furled, and the heart of 
the sailor is merry, for the many dangers which 
beset the ship while approaching and entering 
the great water-way of the continent are now 
over. 




jaREAT ^UK. 



12 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER II. 

FROM QUEBEC TO SOREL. 

THE WATER-WAY INTO THE CONTINENT. — THE WESTERN AND 
THE SOUTHERN ROUTE TO THE GULF OF MEXICO. — THE MAYETA. 
— COMMENCEMENT OF THE VOYAGE, — ASCENT OF THE RIVER 
ST. LAWRENCE. — LAKE OF ST. PETER. — ACADIAN TOWN OF 
SOREL. 

THE canoe traveller can ascend the St. Law- 
rence River to Lake Ontario, avoiding the 
rapids and shoals by making use of seven canals 
of a total length of forty-seven miles. He may 
then skirt the shores of Lake Ontario, and enter 
Lake Erie by the canal which passes around the 
celebrated Falls of Niagara. From the last great 
inland sea he can visit lakes Huron, Michigan, 
and, with the assistance of a short canal, the 
grandest of all, Superior. When he has reached 
the town of Duluth, at the southwestern end of 
Superior, which is the terminus of the Northern 
Pacific Railroad, our traveller will have paddled 
(following the contours of the land) over two 
thousand miles from salt water into the Ameri- 
can continent without having been compelled to 
make a portage with his little craft. Let him 
now make his first portage westward, over the 




'a;o. byj.ejr i Shepard 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 3 

railroad one hundred and fifteen miles fi-om Du- 
luth, to the crossing of the Mississippi River at 
Brainerd, and launch his boat on the Father of 
Waters, which he may descend with but few 
interruptions to below the Falls of St. Anthony, 
at Minneapolis; or, if he will take his boat by 
rail from Duluth, one hundred and fifty-five miles, 
to St. Paul, he can launch his canoe, and follow 
the steamboat to the Gulf of Mexico. This is 
the longest, and may be called the canoeist's 
western route to the great Southern Sea. In 
St. Louis County, Minnesota, the water from 
" Seven Beaver Lakes " flows south-southwest, 
and joins the Flood-Wood River; there taking 
an easterly course towards Duluth, it empties 
into Lake Superior. This is the St. Louis River, 
the first tributary of the mighty St. Lawrence 
system. From the head waters of the St. Louis 
to the mouth of the St. Lawrence at Bic Islands, 
where it enters the great estuary, the length of 
this great water system, including the great 
Lakes, is about two thousand miles. The area thus 
drained by the St. Lawrence River is nearly six 
millions of square miles. The largest craft can 
ascend it to Quebec, and smaller ones to Mon- 
treal; above which city, navigation being im- 
peded by rapids, the seven canals before men- 
tioned have been constructed that vessels may 
avoid this danger while voyaging to Lake On- 
tario. 



14 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

The southern and shorter coast route to the 
gulf leaves the great river at the Acadian town 
of Sorel, where the quiet Richelieu flows into 
the St. Lawrence River. Of the two long routes 
offered me I selected the southern, leaving the 
other to be traversed at some future time. To 
follow the contours of rivers, bays, and sounds, 
a voyage of at least twenty-five hundred miles 
was before me. It was my intention to explore 
the connecting watercourses southward, without 
making a single portage, as far as Cape Henlo- 
pen, a sandy headland at the entrance of Dela- 
ware Bay; there, by making short portages from 
one watercourse to another, to navigate along 
the interior of the Atlantic coast to the St. Mary's 
River, which is a dividing line between Georgia 
and Florida. From the Atlantic coast of south- 
ern Georgia, I proposed to cross the peninsula 
of Florida by way of the St. Mary's River, to 
Okefenokee Swamp; thence, by portage, to the 
Suwanee River, and by descending that stream 
(the boundary line of a geographical division — 
eastern and middle Florida), to reach the coast 
of the Gulf of Mexico, which was to be the ter- 
minal point of my canoe journey. Charts, maps, 
and sea-faring men had informed me that about 
twenty-three hundred miles of the trip could be 
made upon land-locked waters, but about two 
hundred miles of voyaging must be done upon 
the open Atlantic Ocean. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 5 

As I now write, I smilingly remember how 
erroneous were my advisers; for, while prose- 
cuting my voyage, I was but once upon the open 
sea, and then through mistake and for only a 
few minutes. Had I then known that I could 
have followed the whole route in a small boat 
upon strictly interior waters, I should have pad- 
dled from the Basin of Quebec in the light 
paper canoe which I afterwards adopted at Troy, 
and which carried me alone in safety two thou- 
sand miles to the warm regions of the Gulf of 
Mexico. The counsels of old seamen had influ- 
enced me to adopt a large wooden clinker-built, 
decked canoe, eighteen feet long, forty-five inches 
beam, and twenty-four inches depth of hold, 
which weighed, with oars, rudder, mast and sail, 
above three hundred pounds. The Mayeta was 
built by an excellent workman, Mr. J. S. Lam- 
son, at Bordentown, New Jersey. The boat was 
sharp at each end, and the lines from amidships 
to stem, and from amidships to sternpost, were 
alike. She possessed that essential characteristic 
of seaworthiness, abundant sheer. The deck was 
pierced for a cockpit in the centre, which was 
six feet long and surrounded by a high combing 
to keep out water The builder had done his 
best to make the Mayeta serve for rowing and 
sailing — a most difficult combination, and one 
not usually successful. 

On the morning of July 4, 1874, I entered 



1 6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the Basin of Quebec with my wooden canoe 
and my waterman, one David Bodfish, a " shore- 
man " of New Jersey. After weeks of prepara- 
tion and weary travel by rail and by water, we 
had steamed up the Gulf and .the River of St. 
Lawrence to this our most northern point of 
departure. We viewed the frowning heights 
upon which was perched the city of Quebec 
with unalloyed pleasure, and eagerly scrambled 
up the high banks to see the interesting old city. 
The tide, which rises at the city piers eighteen 
feet in the spring, during the neaps reaches only 
thirteen feet. Late in the afternoon the incom- 
ing tide promised to assist us in ascending the 
river, the downward current of which runs with 
torrent-like velocity, and with a depth abreast 
the city of from sixteen to twenty fathoms. 
Against this current powerful steamers run one, 
hundred and eighty miles up the river to Mon- 
treal in eighteen hours, and descend in fourteen 
hours, including two hours' stoppages at Sorel 
and Three Rivers. At six o'clock p. m. we 
pushed off into the river, which is about two- 
thirds of a mile wide at this point, and com- 
menced our voyage; but fierce gusts of wind 
arose and drove us to the shelter of Mr. Hamil- 
ton's lumber-yard on the opposite shore, where 
we passed the night, sleeping comfortably upon 
cushions which we spread on the narrow floor 
of the boat. Sunday was to be spent in camp; 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 7 

but when dawn appeared we were not allowed 
to build a fire on the lumber pier, and were 
forced to ascend the St. Lawrence in quest of a 
retired spot above the landing of St. Croix, on 
the rio^ht bank of the river. The tide had been 
a hig-h one when we beached our boat at the foot 
of a bluff. Two hours later the receding tide 
left us a quarter of a mile from the current. 
The river was fully two miles wide at this point, 
and so powerful was its current that steamers 
anchored in it were obliged to keep their wheels 
slowly revolving to ease the strain on their 
anchors. Early on Monday morning we beheld 
with consternation that the tide did not reach 
our boat, and by dint of hard labor we con- 
structed a railroad from a neighboring fence, 
and moved the Mayeta on rollers upon it over 
the mud and the projecting reef of rocks some 
five hundred feet to the water, then embarking, 
rowed close along the shore to avoid the current. 
A deep fog settled down upon us, and we were 
driven to camp again on the left bank, where a 
cataract tumbled over the rocks fifty or more 
feet. Tuesday was a sunny day, but the usual 
head wind greeted us. The water would rise 
along-shore on the flood three hours before the 
downward current was checked in the channel 
of the river. We could not place any depend- 
ence in the regularity of the tides, as strong 
winds and freshets in the tributaries influence 
2 



1 8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

them. Earlier in the season, as a writer re- 
marks, " until the upland waters have all run 
down, and the great rivers have discharged the 
freshets caused by thawing of the snows in the 
spring of the year, this current, in spite of tides, 
will always run down." To the uninitiated the 
spectacle is a curious one, of the flood tide rising 
and swelling the waters of a great river some 
eight to ten feet, while the current at the surface 
is rapidly descending the course of the stream. 

Finding that the wind usually rose and fell 
with the sun, we now made it a rule to anchor 
our boat during most of the day and pull against 
the current at nig-ht. The moon and the brie^ht 
auroral lights made this task an agreeable one. 
Then, too, we had Coggia's comet speeding 
through the northern heavens, awakening many 
an odd conjecture in the mind of my old salt. 

In this high latitude da}^ dawned before three 
o'clock, and the twilight lingered so long that 
we could read the fine print of a newspaper 
without effort at a quarter to nine o'clock p. m. 
The lofty shores that surrounded us at Quebec 
gradually decreased in elevation, and the tides 
affected the river less and less as we approached 
Three Rivers, where they seemed to cease alto- 
gether. We reached the great lumber station 
of Three Rivers, which is located on the left 
bank of the St. Lawrence, on Friday evening, 
and moved our canoe into quiet waters near the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 9 

entrance of Lake of St. Peter. Rain squalls 
kept us close under our hatch-cloth till eleven 
o'clock A. M. on Saturday, when, the wind being 
fair, we determined to make an attempt to reach 
Sorel, which would afford us a pleasant camping- 
ground for Sunday. 

Lake of St. Peter is a shoal sheet of water 
twenty-two miles long and nearly eight miles 
wide, a bad place to cross in a small boat in 
wandy weather. We set our sail and sped mer- 
rily on, but the tempest pressed us sorely, com- 
pelling us to take in our sail and scud under 
bare poles until one o'clock, when we double- 
reefed and set the sail. We now flew over the 
short and swashy seas as blast after blast struck 
our little craft. At three o'clock the wind slack- 
ened, permitting us to shake out our reefs and 
crowd on all sail. A labyrinth of islands closed 
the lake at its western end, and we looked with 
anxiety to find among them an opening through 
which we might pass into the river St. Law- 
rence again. At five o'clock the wind veered 
to the north, with squalls increasing in intensity. 
We steered for a low, grassy island, which 
seemed to separate us from the river. The wind 
was not free enough to permit us to weather it, 
so we decided to beach the boat and escape the 
furious tempest. But when we struck the marshy 
island we kept moving on through the rushes 
that covered it, and fairly sailed over its sub- 



20 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

merofed soil into the broad water on the other 
side. Bodfish earnestly advised the propriety of 
anchoring here for the night, saying, " It is too 
rough to go on;" but the temptation held out 
by the proximity to Sorel determined me to 
take the risk and drive on. Again we bounded 
out upon rough water, with the screeching tem- 
pest upon us. David took the tiller, while I sat 
upon the weather-rail to steady the boat. The 
Mayeta was now to be put to a severe test; she 
was to cross seas that could easily trip a boat of 
her size; but the wooden canoe was worthy of 
her builder, and flew like an aflrighted bird over 
the foaming waves across the broad water, to 
the shelter of a wooded, half submerged island, 
out of which rose, on piles, a little light-house. 
Under this lee we crept along in safety. The 
sail was furled, never to be used in storm again. 
The wind went down with the sinking sun, and 
a delightful calm favored us for our row up the 
narrowing river, eight miles to the place of des- 
tination. 

Soon after nine o'clock we came upon the 
Acadian town, Sorel, with its bright lights cheer- 
ily flashing out upon us as we rowed past its 
river front. The prow of our canoe was now 
pointed southward toward the goal of our ambi- 
tion, the great Mexican Gulf; and we were about 
to ascend that historic stream, the lovely Riche- 
lieu, upon whose gentle current, two hundred 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 21 

and sixty-six years before, Champlain had as- 
cended to the noble lake which bears his name, 
and up which the missionary Jogues had been 
carried an unwilling captive to bondage and to 
torture. 

We ascended the Richelieu, threading our 
way among steam-tugs, canal-boats, and rafts, 
to a fringe of rushes growing out of a shallow 
flat on the left bank of the river, just above 
the town. There, firmly staking the Mayeta 
upon her soft bed of mud, secure from danger, 
we enjoyed a peaceful rest through the calm 
night which followed; and thus ended the rough 
passage of one week's duration — from Quebec 
to Sorel. 



22 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER III. 

FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER TO TICONDE- 
ROGA, LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 

THE RICHELIEU RIVER. — ACADIAN SCENES. — ST. OURS. — ST 
ANTOINE. — ST. MARKS. — BELCEIL. — CHAMBLY CANAL. — ST. 
JOHNS. — LAKE CHAMPLAIN. — THE GREAT SHIP-CANAL, — 
DAVID BODFISH'S CAMP. — THE ADIRONDACK SURVEY. — A 
CANVAS BOAT. — DIMENSIONS OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN. — PORT. 
KENT. — AUSABLE CHASM. — ARRIVAL AT TICONDEROGA. 



QUEBEC was founded by Champlain, July 3, 
- 1680. During his first warlike expedition 
into the land of the Iroquois the following year, 
escorted by Algonquin and Montagnais Indian 
allies, he ascended a river to which was after- 
wards given the name of Cardinal Richelieu, 
prime minister of Louis XIII. of France. This 
stream, which is about eighty miles long, con- 
nects the lake (which Champlain discovered 
and named after himself) with the St Lawrence 
River at a point one hundred and forty miles 
above Qiiebec, and forty miles below Montreal. 
The waters of lakes George and Champlain 
flow northward, through the Richelieu River 
into the St. Lawrence. The former stream flows 
through a cultivated country, and upon its banks, 
after leaving Sorel, are situate the little towns 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 23 

of St. Ours, St. Rock, St. Denis, St. Antoine, St. 
Marks, Beloeil, Chambly, and St. Johns. Small 
steamers, tug-boats, and rafts pass from the St. 
Lawrence to Lake Champlain (which lies almost 
wholly within the United States), following the 
Richelieu to Chambly, where it is necessary, to 
avoid rapids and shoals, to take the canal that 
follows the river's bank twelve miles to St. Johns, 
where the Canadian custom-house is located. 
Sorel is called William Henry by the Anglo- 
Saxon Canadians. The paper published in this 
town of seven thousand inhabitants is La Ga- 
zette de Sorel. The river which flows past the 
town is called, without authority, by some geog- 
raphers, Sorel River, and by others St. Johns, 
because the town nearest its source is St. Johns, 
and another town at its mouth is Sorel. There 
are about one hundred English-speaking families 
in Sorel. The American Waterhouse Machinery 
supplies the town with water pumped from the 
river at a cost of one ton of coal per day. At 
ten o'clock on Monday morning we resumed 
our journey up the Richelieu, the current of 
which was nothing compared with that of the 
great river we had left. The average width of 
the stream was about a quarter of a mile, and the 
grassy shores were made picturesque by groves 
of trees and quaintly constructed farm-houses. 

It was a rich, pastoral land, abounding in fine 
herds of cattle. The country reminded me of 



24 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the Acadian region of Grand Pre, which I had 
visited during the earlier part of the season. 
Here, as there, were delightful pastoral scenes 
and rich verdure; but here we still had the Aca- 
dian peasants, while in the land of • beautiful 
Evangeline no longer were they to be found. 
The New Englander now holds the titles to 
those deserted old farms of the scattered colo- 
nists. Our rowing was frequently interrupted 
by heavy showers, which drove us under our 
hatch-cloth for protection. The same large, 
two-steepled stone churches, with their unpaint- 
ed tin roofs glistening like silver in the sunlight, 
marked out here, as on the high banks of the 
St. Lawrence River, the site of a village. 

Twelve miles of rowing brought us to St. Ours, 
where we rested for the night, after wandering 
through its shaded and quaint streets. The vil- 
lage boys and girls came down to see us off the 
next morning, waving their kerchiefs, and shout- 
ing ^^ B on voyage f'' Two miles above the town 
we encountered a dam three feet high, which 
deepened the water on a shoal above it. We 
passed through a single lock in company with 
rafts of pine logs which were on the way to New 
York, to be used for spars. A lockage fee of 
twenty-five cents for our boat the lock-master 
told us would be collected at Chambly Basin. 
It was a pull of nearly six miles to St. Denis, 
where the same scene of comfort and plenty pre- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 25 

vailed. Women were washing clothes in large 
iron pots at the river's edge, and the hum of the 
spinning-wheels issued from the doorways of 
the farm-houses. Beehives in the well-stocked 
gardens were filled with honey, and the straw- 
thatched barns had their doors thrown wide 
open, as though waiting to receive the harvest. 
At intervals along the highway, over the grassy 
hills, tall, white wooden crosses were erected; 
for this people, like the Acadians of old, are very 
religious. Down the current floated " pin-flats," 
a curious scow-like boat, which carries a square 
sail, and makes good time only when running 
before the wind. St. Antoine and St. Marks 
were passed, and the isolated peak of St. Hilaire 
loomed up grandly twelve hundred feet on the 
right bank of the Richelieu, opposite the town 
ofBelceil. One mile above Belceil the Grand 
Trunk Railroad crosses the stream, and here "Cve 
passed the night. Strong winds and rain squalls 
i iteirupted our progress. At Chambly Basin 
we tarried until the evening of July 16, before 
entering the canal. Chambly is a watering- 
place for Montreal people, who come here to 
enjoy the fishing, which is said to be fair. 

We had ascended one water-step at St. Ours. 
Here we had eight steps to ascend within the 
distance of one mile. By means of eight locks, 
each one hundred and ten feet long by twenty- 
two wide, the Mayeta was lifted seventy-five 



26 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

feet and one inch in height to the upper level of 
the canal. The lock-masters were courteous, 
and wished us the usual ^'^ bou voyage!''^ This 
canal was built thirty-four years prior to my visit. 
By ten o'clock p. m. we had passed the last lock, 
and went into camp in a depression in the bank 
of the canal. The journey was resumed at half 
past three o'clock the following morning, and 
the row of twelve miles to St. Johns was a de- 
lightful one. The last lock (the only one at St. 
Johns) was passed, and we had a full clearance 
at the Dominion custom-house before noon. 

We were again on the Richelieu, with about 
twenty-three miles between us and the boundary 
line of the United States and Canada, and with 
very little current to impede us. As dusk ap- 
proached we passed a dismantled old fort, situ- 
ated, upon an island called He aux Noix, and 
entered a region inhabited by the large bull-frog, 
where we camped for the night, amid the dolo- 
rous voices of these choristers. On Saturday, 
the 1 8th, at an early hour, we were pulling for 
the United States, which was about six miles 
from our camping-ground. The Richelieu wid- 
ened, and we entered Lake Champlain, passing 
Fort Montgomery, which is about one thousand 
feet south of the boundary line. Champlain has 
a width of three fourths of a mile at Fort Mont- 
gomery, and at Rouse's Point expands to two 
miles and three quarters. The erection of the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 27 

fort was commenced soon after 1812, but in 
1818 the work was suspended, as some one dis- 
covered that the site was in Canada, and the 
cognomen of Fort Blunder was applied. In the 
Webster treaty of 1842, England ceded the 
ground to the United States, and Fort Mont- 
gomery was finished at a cost of over half a mil- 
lion of dollars. 

At Rouse's Point, which lies on the west shore 
of Lake Champlain about one and one-half miles 
south of its confluence with the Richelieu, the 
Mayeta was inspected by the United States cus- 
tom-house officer, and nothing contraband being 
discovered, the little craft was permitted to con- 
tinue her voyage. 

At the northern end of the harbor of Rouse's 
Point is the terminus of the Ogdensburg and the 
Champlain and St. Lawrence railroads. The 
Vermont Central Railroad connects with the 
above by means of a bridge twenty-two hundred 
feet in length, which crosses the lake. Before 
proceeding further it may interest the reader of 
practical mind to know that a very important 
movement is on foot to facilitate the navigation 
of vessels between the great Lakes, St. Lawrence 
River, and Champlain, by the construction of 
a ship-canal. The Caughnawaga Ship Canal 
Company, " incorporated by special act of the 
Dominion of Parliament of Canada, 12th May, 
1870," (capital, three million dollars; shares, one 



28 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

hundred dollars each,) with a board of directors 
composed of citizens of the United States and 
Canada, has issued its prospectus, from which I 
extract the followinof: 

" The commissioners of public works, in 
their report of 1859, approved by government, 
finally settled the question of route, by declaring 
that, ^ after a patient and mature consideration of 
all the surveys and reports, we are of opinion 
that the line following the Chambly Canal and 
then crossing to Lake St. Louis near Caughna- 
waga, is that which combines and affords in the 
greatest degree all the advantages contemplated 
by this improvement, and which has been ap- 
proved by Messrs. Mills, Swift, and Gamble.' 

" The company's Act of Incorporation is in 
every respect complete and comprehensive in its 
details. It empowers the company to survey, to 
take, appropriate, have and hold, to and for the 
use of them and their successors, the line and 
boundaries of a canal between the St. Lawrence 
and Lake Champlain, to build and erect the 
same, to select such sites as may be necessary 
for basins and docks, as may be considered ex- 
pedient by the directors, and to purchase and 
dispose of same, with any water-power, as may 
be deemed best by the directors for the use and 
profit of the company. 

" It also empowers the company to cause their 
canal to enter into the Chambly Canal, and to 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 29 

widen, deepen, and enlarge the same, not less in 
size than the present St. Lawrence canals; also 
the company may take, hold, and use any por- 
tion of the Chambly Canal, and the works there- 
with connected, and all the tolls, receipts, and 
revenues thereof, upon terms to be settled and 
agreed upon between the company and the gov- 
ernor in council. 

" The cost of the canal, with locks of three 
hundred feet by forty-five, and with ten feet six 
inches the mitre-sill, is now estimated at two 
million five hundred thousand dollars, and the 
time for its construction may not exceed two 
years after breaking ground. 

" Probably no question is of more vital impor- 
tance to Canada and the western and eastern 
United States than the subject of transportation. 
The increasing commerce of the Great West, the 
rapidity with which the population has of late 
flowed into that vast tract of country to the west 
and northwest of lakes Erie, Michigan, Huron, 
and Superior, have served to convince all well- 
informed commercial men that the means of 
transit between that country and the seaboard 
are far too limited even for the present necessi- 
ties of trade; hence it becomes a question of uni- 
versal interest how the products of the field, the 
mine, and the forest can be most cheaply for- 
warded to the consumer. Near the geographical 
centre of North America is a vast plateau two 



30 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

thousand feet above the level of the sea, drained 
by the Mississippi to the south, by the St. Law- 
rence to the east, and by the Saskatchewan and 
McKenzie to the north. This vast territory 
would have been valueless but for the water 
lines which afford cheap transport between it 
and the great markets of the world. 

" Canada has improved the St. Lawrence by 
canals round the rapids of the St. Lawrence, and 
by the Welland Canal, connecting lakes Erie and 
Ontario, twenty-eight miles in length with a fall 
of two hundred and sixty feet, capable of pass- 
ing vessels of four hundred tons. The St. Law- 
rence, from the east end of Lake Ontario, has a 
fall of two hundred and twenty feet, overcome 
by seven short canals of an aggregate length of 
forty-seven miles, capable of passing vessels of 
six hundred and fifty tons. The Richelieu River 
is connected with Lake Champlain by a canal 
of twelve miles from Chambly. A canal of one 
mile in length, at the outlet of Lake Superior, 
connects that lake with Lake Huron, and has 
two locks, which will pass vessels of two thou- 
sand tons. New York has built a canal from 
Buffalo, on Lake Erie, and from Oswego, on 
Lake Ontario, to Albany, on the Hudson River, 
of three hundred and sixty and of two hundred 
and nine miles, capable of passing boats of two 
hundred and ten tons; and she has also con- 
structed a canal from the Hudson River into 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 3 1 

Lake Champlain of sixty-five miles, which can 
pass boats of eighty tons. 

" Such is the nature of the navigation between 
tide-water on the Hudson and St. Lawrence and 
the upper lakes. The magnitude of the com- 
merce of the Northwest has compelled the en- 
largement of the Erie and Oswego canals from 
boats of seventy-eight to two hundred and ten 
tons, while the St. Lawrence and Welland canals 
have also been enlarged since their first con- 
struction. A further enlargement of the Erie 
and Champlain canals is now strongly urged in 
consequence of the want of the necessary facili- 
ties of transport for the ever increasing western 
trade. The object of the Caughnawaga Ship- 
canal is to connect Lake Champlain with the St. 
Lawrence by the least possible distance, and 
with the smallest amount of lockage. When 
built, it will enable the vessel or propeller to 
sail from the head of lakes Superior or Michigan 
without breaking bulk, and will enable such ves- 
sels to land and receive cargo at Burlington and 
Whitehall, from whence western freights can be 
carried to and from Boston, and throughout New 
England, by railway cheaper than by any other 
route. 

" It will possess the advantage, when the Wel- 
land Canal is enlarged and the locks of the St. 
Lawrence Canal lengthened, of passing vessels 
of eight hundred and fifty tons' burden, and with 



32 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

that size of vessel (impossible on any other route) 
of improved model, with facilities for loading and 
discharging cargoes at both ends of the route, in 
the length of the voyage without transshipment, 
in having the least distance between any of 
the lake ports and a seaport, and in having the 
shortest length of taxed canal navigation. The 
construction of the Caughnawaga Canal, when 
carried out, will remedy the difficulties which 
now exist and stand in the way of an uninter- 
rupted water communication between the west- 
ern states and the Atlantic seaboard." 

From Rouse's Point we proceeded to a pic- 
turesque point which jutted into the lake below 
Chazy Landing, and was sheltered by a grove 
of trees into which we hauled the Mayeta. Bod- 
fish's woodcraft enabled him to construct a wig- 
wam out of rails and rubber blankets, where we 
quietl}^ resided until Monday morning. The 
owner of the point, Mr. Trombly, invited us to 
dinner on Sunday, and exhibited samples of a 
ton of maple sugar which he had made from the 
sap of one thousand trees. 

On Monday, July 20th, we rowed southward. 
Our route now skirted the western shore of 
Lake Champlain, which is the eastern boundary 
of the great Adirondack wilderness. Several of 
the tributaries of the lake take their rise in this 
region, which is being more and more visited 
by the hunter, the fisherman, the artist, and the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 33 

tourist, as its natural attractions are becoming 
known to the public. The geocletical survey 
of the northern wilderness of New York state, 
known as the Adirondack country, under the 
efficient and energetic labors of Mr. Verplanck 
Colvin, will cover an area of nearly five thou- 
sand square miles. In his report of the great 
work he eloquently says: 

"The Adirondack wilderness may be consid- 
ered the wonder and the glory of New York. 
It is a vast natural park, one immense and 
silent forest, curiously and beautifully broken 
by the gleaming waters of a myriad of lakes, 
between which rugged mountain-ranges rise as 
a sea of granite billows. At the northeast the 
mountains culminate within an area of some 
hundreds of square miles; and here savage, tree- 
less peaks, towering above the timber line, crowd 
one another, and, standing gloomil}'' shoulder to 
shoulder, rear their rocky crests amid the frosty 
clouds. The wild beasts may look forth from 
the ledges on the mountain-sides over unbroken 
woodlands stretching beyond the reach of sight 
— beyond the blue, hazy ridges at the horizon. 
The voyager by the canoe beholds lakes in 
which these mountains and wild forests are 
reflected like inverted reality; now wondrous 
in their dark grandeur and solemnity, now 
glorious in resplendent autumn color of pearly 
beauty. Here — thrilling sound to huntsman — 

3 



34 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

echoes the wild melody of the hound, awaken- 
ing the solitude with deep-mouthed bay as he 
pursues the swift career of deer. The quavering- 
note of the loon on the lake, the mournful hoot 
of the owl at night, with rarer forest voices, 
have also to the lover of nature their peculiar 
charm, and form the wild language of this forest. 

"It is this region of lakes and mountains — 
whose mountain core is well shown by the illus- 
tration, ^ the heart of the Adirondacks ' — that 
our citizens desire to reserve forever as a public 
forest park, not only as a resort of rest for them- 
selves and for posterity, but for weighty reasons of 
political economy. For reservoirs of water for the 
canals and rivers; for the amelioration of spring 
floods by the preservation of the forests shelter- 
ing the deep winter snows; for the salvation of 
the timber, — our only cheap source of lumber 
supply should the Canadian and western markets 
be ruined by fires, or otherwise lost to us, — its 
preservation as a state forest is urgently demand- 
ed. To the number of those chilly peaks amid 
which our principal rivers take their rise, I have 
added by measurement a dozen or more over 
four thousand feet in height, which were before 
either nameless, or only vaguely known by the 
names given them by hunters and trappers. 

" It is well to note that the final hypsometrical 
computations fully affirm my discovery that in 
Mount Haystack we have another mountain of 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 35 

five thousand feet altitude. It may not be unin- 
teresting also to remark that the difference be- 
tween the altitudes of Mount Marcy and Mount 
Washington of the White Mountains of New 
Hampshire is found to be quite eight hundred 
feet. Mount Marcy, Mount Maclntyre, and 
Mount Haystack are to be remembered as the 
three royal summits of the state. 
"The four prominent peaks are — 

■Mr ^ T\T (Mount Tahawjis — " I cleave ) ___/-_ 

Mount Marcy ^ , , , „ X 5:402.65 

(. the clouds," . . , ) 

Mount Haystack, 5,00673 

Mount Maclntyre, 5,201.80 

Mount Skylight, 4,977.76." 

If the general reader will pardon a seeming 
digression to gratify the curiosity of some of my 
boating friends, I will give from the report of 
the Adirondack Survey Mr. Colvin's account 
of his singular boat, — one of the lightest yet 
constructed, and "weighing only as much as a 
hunter's double-barrelled gun. 

Mr. Colvin says: 

" I also had constructed a canvas boat, of my 
own invention, for use in the interior of the wil- 
derness on such of the mountain lakes as were 
inaccessible to boats, and which it would be 
necessary to map. This boat was peculiar; no 
more frame being needed than could be readily 
cut in thirty minutes in the first thicket. It was 



36 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

twelve feet long, with thin sheet brass prows, 
riveted on, and so fitted as to receive the keelson, 
prow pieces, and ribs (of boughs), when re- 
quired; the canoe being made water-proof with 
pure rubber gum, dissolved in naphtha, rubbed 
into it." 

Page 43 of Mr. Colvin's report informs the 
reader how well this novel craft served the pur- 
pose for which it was built. 

"September 12 was devoted to levelling and 
topographical work at Ampersand Pond, a solitary 
lake locked in by mountains, and seldom visited. 
There was no boat upon its surface, and in order 
to complete the hydrographical work we had 
now, of necessity, to try my portable canvas boat, 
which had hitherto done service as bed or tent. 
Cutting green rods for ribs, we unrolled the boat 
and tied them in, lashing poles for gunwales at 
the sides, and in a short time our canvas canoe, 
buoyant as a cork, wms floating on the water. 
The guides, who had been unable to believe that 
the flimsy bag they carried could be used as a 
boat, were in ecstasies. Rude but efficient pad- 
dles were hastily hewn from the nearest tree, 
and soon we were all gliding in our ten-pound 
boat over the waves of Ampersand, which glit- 
tered in the morning sunlight. To the guides 
the boat was something astonishing; they could 
not refrain from laughter to find that they were 
really afloat in it, and pointed with surprise at 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 37 

the waves, which could be seen through the 
boat, rippling against its sides. With the aid of 
the boat, with prismatic compass and sextant, I 
was able to secure an excellent map of the lake; 
and we almost succeeded in catching a deer^ 
which was driven into the lake by a strange 
hound. The dog lost the trail at the water, and 
desiring to put him on the track, we paddled to 
him. He scrambled into the boat with an air of 
satisfaction, as if he had always travelled in just 
such a thing. Soon we had regained the trail, 
and making the mountains echo to his voice, 
he again pursued the deer on into the trackless 
forest. 

" Continuing our work, we passed down into 
the outlet, where, in trying to effect a landing, 
we suddenly came face to face with a large pan- 
ther, which had evidently been watching us. 
He fled at our approach. 

" Our baggage was quickly packed, and the 
temporary frame of the canoe having been taken 
out and thrown away, we rolled up our boat and 
put it in the bottom of a knapsack. . . . The same 
day by noon we reached Cold Brook again, here 
navigable. In an hour and a half we had re- 
framed the canvas, cut out two paddles from a 
dry cedar-tree, had dinner, loaded the boat, and 
were off, easily gliding down stream to the Sara- 
nac River. Three men, the heaped baggage in 
the centre, and the solemn hound, who seemed 



38 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

to consider himself part of the company, sitting 
upright near the prow, forming in all a burden 
of about one third of a ton, was a severe test of 
the green boughs of which we had made the frame. 

" Ascending the Saranac River, we struck out 
into the broad Saranac Lake, some six miles 
in length, and though the winds and the waves 
buffeted us, the canvas sides of the boat respond- 
ing elastically to each beat of the waves, we got 
safely along till near the Sister Islands, when, the 
wind blowing very fresh, the white-capped roll- 
ers began to pitch into the boat. The exertions 
of the guides brought us under the lee shore, and 
at evening we disembarked at Martin's." 

Geographies, guide-books, and historical works 
frequently give the length of Lake Champlain as 
one hundred and fifty, or at the least one hundred 
and forty miles. These distances are not correct. 
The lake proper begins at a point near Ticonde- 
roga and ends not far from the boundary line of 
the United States and Canada. Champlain is not 
less than one hundred nor more than one hundred 
and twelve miles long. The Champlain Canal, 
which connects the river that flows from White- 
hall into the lake with the Hudson River, is sixty- 
four miles long, ending at the Erie Canal at 
Junction Lock, near Troy. From Junction Lock 
to Albany, along the Erie Canal, it is six miles: 
or seventy miles from Whitehall to Albany by 
canal route. This distance has frequently been 
given as fifty-one miles. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 39 

From the United States boundary line south- 
ward it is a distance of seven miles to Isle la 
Motte, which island is five and a half miles long 
by one and three quarters wide, with a light- 
house upon its northwest point. From the New 
York shore of Monti Bay, across the end of Isle 
la Motte to St. Albans, Vermont, is a distance of 
thirteen and a half miles. Two miles south of 
the island, on the west shore, is Point au Roche 
light; and two miles and three quarters south of 
it is Rocky Point, the terminus of Long Point. 
Next comes Treadwell Bay, three miles across; 
then two miles further on is Cumberland Head 
and its light-house. West from Cumberland, 
three miles across a large ba}^, is Plattsburgh, at 
the mouth of the Saranac River, a town of five 
thousand inhabitants. In this vicinity Commo- 
dore Macdonough fought the British fleet in 1814. 
These are historic waters, which have witnessed 
the scene of many a bloody struggle between 
French, English, and Indian adversaries. Off 
Cumberland Head, and dividing the lake, is 
Grand Isle, twelve miles in length and from 
three to four in width. 

The village of Port Kent is near the mouth of 
the Ausable River, which flows out of the north- 
ern Adirondack country. A few miles from the 
lake is the natural wonder, the Ausable Chasm, 
which is nearly two miles in length. The river 
has worn a channel in the Potsdam sandstone 



40 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

formation to a depth, in places, of two hundred 
feet. Between high walls of rock the river is 
compressed in one place to ten feet in breadth, 
and dashes wildly over falls and rapids on its 
way to Lake Champlain. It is said to rival the 
famous Swiss Gorge du Triant. 

Schuyler's Island, upon the shore of which we 
passed Tuesday night, is nearly in the latitude of 
Burlington, Vermont. The distance from Port 
Douglass on the west, to Burlington on the east 
side of Champlain, over an open expanse of 
water, is nine miles and three quarters. We 
breakfasted by starlight, and passed Ligonier's 
Point early in the day. One mile and a half east 
of it is the group of little islands called Four 
Brothers. The lake grew narrower as we rowed 
southward, until, after passing Port Henry Iron 
Works, and the high promontory of Crown Point, 
upon which are the ruins of the French Fort 
Frederic, built in 173 1, it has a width of only 
two miles. 

At eight o'clock p. m. we dropped anchor un- 
der the banks of Ticonderoga, not far from the 
outlet of Lake George. It is four miles by road 
between the two lakes. The stream which con- 
nects them can be ascended from Champlain 
about two miles to the Iron Works, the remain- 
der of the river being filled with rapids. 

A railroad now (1867) connects lakes George 
and Champlain, over which an easy portage can 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 4 1 

be made. The ruined walls of Fort Ticonde- 
roga are near the railroad landing:. A little 
south of this the lake grows so narrow as to re- 
semble a river. At its southern end, twenty- 
four miles from Ticonderoga, is situated the 
town of Whitehall, where the Champlain and 
Hudson River Canal forms a junction with Lake 
Champlain. This long river-like termination of 
Champlain gave to the Indians the fancy of call- 
ing it Tisinondrosa — " the tail of the lake ; " 
which in mouths inexperienced with the savage 
tongue became corrupted into Ticonderoga. 

Wednesday broke upon us a glorious day. 
Proceeding three miles to Patterson's Landing, 
into the " tail of the lake," I left the Mayeta to 
explore on foot the shores of Lake George, 
promising Bodfish to join him at Whitehall when 
my work should be finished. 



42 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER IV. 

FROM LAKES GEORGE AND CHAMPLAIN TO THE 
HUDSON RIVER. 

THE DISCOVERY OF LAKE GEORGE BY FATHER JCGUES. — A PE- 
DESTRIAN JOURNEY. — THE HERMIT OF THE NARROWS. — 
CONVENT OF ST. MARY'S OF THE LAKE. — THE PAULIST 
FATHERS. — CANAL-ROUTE FROM LAKE CHAMPLAIN TO AL- 
BANY. — BODFISH RETURNS TO NEW JERSEY. — THE LITTLE 
FLEET IN ITS HAVEN OF REST. 

IN the last chapter I gave, from seemingly 
good authority, the appellation of the narrow 
terminal water of the southern end of Lake 
Champlain, "the tail of the lake." Another 
authority, in describing Lake George, says: 
" The Indians named the lake, on account of the 
purit}^ of its waters, Uoricon, or ^silvery v^ater;' 
they also called it Canderi-oit, or '^the tail of 
the lake,' on account of its connecting with Lake 
Champlain." Cooper, in his " Last of the Mo- 
hicans," says: "It occurred to me that the 
French name of the lake was too complicated, 
the American too commonplace, and the Indian 
too unpronounceable for either to be used fa- 
miliarly in a work of fiction." So he called it 
Horicon. 




Cfpyrujki.lS'X.hyL.'.' ,f. f^luyard 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 43 

History furnishes us with the following facts 
in regard to the discovery of the lake. While 
journeying up the St. Lawrence in a fleet of 
twelve canoes, on a mission to the friendly Hu- 
ron aborigines, Father Isaac Jogues and his two 
friends, donms of the mission, Rene Goupil and 
Guillaume Couture, with another Frenchman, 
were captured at the western end of Lake of 
St. Peter by a band of Iroquois, which was on a 
marauding expedition from the Mohawk River 
country, near what is now the city of Troy. In 
the panic caused by the sudden onslaught of the 
Iroquois, the unconverted portion of the thirty- 
six Huron allies of the Frenchmen fled into the 
woods, while the christianized portion defended 
the white men for a while. A reinforcement of 
the enemy soon scattered these also, but not 
until the Frenchmen and a few of the Hurons 
were made captive. This was on the 2d of 
August, 1642. 

According to Francis Parkman, the author of 
" The Jesuits in North America," the savages 
tortured Jogues and his white companions, strip- 
ping off their clothing, tearing out their finger- 
nails with their teeth, and gnawing their fingers 
with the fury of beasts. The seventy Iroquois 
returned southward, following the River Riche- 
lieu, Lake Champlain, and Lake George, eii 
route for the Mohawk towns. Meeting a war 
party of two hundred of their own nation on 



44 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

one of the islands of Champlain, the Indians 
formed two parallel lines between which the 
captives were forced to run for their lives, while 
the savages struck at them with thorny sticks 
and clubs. Father Jogues fell exhausted to the 
ground, bathed in his own blood, when fire was 
applied to his body. At night the 3^oung war- 
riors tormented the poor captives by opening 
their wounds and tearing out their hair and 
beards. The day following this night of torture 
the Indians and their mangled captives reached 
the promontory of Ticonderoga, along the base 
of which flowed the limpid waters, the outlet of 
Lake George. Here the party made a portage 
through the primeval forests, carrying their ca- 
noes and cargoes on their backs, when suddenly 
there broke upon their view the dark blue waters 
of a beautiful lake, which Mr. Parkman thus elo- 
quently describes: 

" Like a fair naiad of the wilderness it slum- 
bered between the guardian mountains that 
breathe from crag and forest the stern poetry of 
war. But all then was solitude; and the clang 
of trumpets, the roar of cannon, and the deadly 
crack of the rifle had never as yet awakened 
their angry echoes. Again the canoes were 
launched and the wild flotilla glided on its way, 
now in the shadow of the heights, now on the 
broad expanse, now among the devious chan- 
nels of the Narrows, beset with woody islets 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 45 

where the hot air was redolent of the pine, the 
spruce, and the cedar, — till they neared that 
tragic shore where, in the following century, 
New England rustics baffled the soldiers of 
Dieskau, where Montcalm planted his batteries, 
where the red cross waved so long amid the 
smoke, and where, at length, the summer night 
was hideous with carnage, and an honored name 
was stained with a memory of blood. The 
Indians landed at or near the future site of Fort 
William Henry, left their canoes, and with their 
prisoners began their march for the nearest Mo- 
hawk town." 

Father Jogues lived among his captors until 
the fall of 1643, when he escaped in a vessel 
from the Dutch settlement of Rensselaerswyck 
(Albany), to which place the Iroquois had gone 
to trade with the inhabitants. He arrived at the 
Jesuit college of Rennes, France, in a most des- 
titute condition, on the 5th of January, 1644, 
where he was joyfully received and kindly cared 
for. When he appeared before Queen Anne of 
Austria, the woman who wore a diadem thought 
it a privilege to kiss his mutilated hands. In the 
Roman Catholic church a deformed or mutilated 
priest cannot say mass; he must be a perfect 
man in body and mind before the Lord. Father 
Jogues wished to return to his old missionary 
field; so, to restore to him his lost right of saying 
mass, the Pope granted his prayer by a special 



46 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

dispensation. In the spring of 1643 he returned 
to the St. Lawrence country to found a new mis- 
sion, to be called the Mission of Martyrs. His 
Superior at Montreal ordered him to proceed to 
the country of the Mohawks, and in company 
with Sieur Bourdon, a government engineer, and 
six Indians, he followed the Richelieu and Cham- 
plain, which the savages called " the doorway 
of the country," until the little party stood on 
the northern end of Lake George, on the even- 
ing of Corpus Christi; and with the catholic 
spirit of the Jesuit missionary he christened it 
Lac St. Sacrement, and this name it bore for a 
whole century. On the i8th of October, 1646, 
the tomahawk of the savage ended the life 
of Father Jogues, who, after suffering many tor- 
tures and indignities from his Iroquois captors, 
died in their midst while working for their salva- 
tion in his field of Christian labor. 

The right of a discoverer to name new lakes 
and rivers is old and unquestioned. A mission- 
ary of the cross penetrated an unexplored wil- 
derness and found this noblest gem of the lower 
Adirondacks, unknown to civilized man. Im- 
pressed with this sublime work of his Creator, 
the mart3Ted priest christened it St. Sacrement. 
One hundred years later came troops of soldiers 
with mouths filled with strange oaths, cursing 
their enemies. What respect had t/iey for the 
rights of discoverers or martyred missionaries? 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 47 

So General Johnson, " an ambitious Irishman," 
discarded the Christian name of the lake and 
replaced it with the English one of George. 
He did not name it after St. George, the patron 
saint of England, of whom history asserts that 
he " was identical with a native of either Cappa- 
docia or Cilicia, who raised himself by flattery 
of the great from the meanest circumstances to 
be purveyor of bacon for the army, and who was 
put to death with two of his ministers by a mob, 
for peculations, a. d. 361;" but he took that of 
a sensual king, George of England, in order to 
advance his own interests with that monarch. 

For more than a century Lake George was the 
highway between Canada and the Hudson River. 
Its pure waters were so much esteemed as to be 
taken regularly to Canada to be consecrated and 
used in the Roman Catholic churches in baptis- 
mal and other sacred rites. The lake was fre- 
quently occupied by armies, and the forts George 
and William Henry, at the southern end, possess 
most interesting historical associations. The 
novelist Coooer made Lake Georjje a regfion of 
romance. To the young generation of Ameri- 
cans who yearly visit its shores it is an El 
Dorado, and the very air breathes love as they 
glide in their light boats over its pellucid waters, 
adding to the picturesqueness of the scene, and 
supplying that need ever felt, no matter what 
the natural beauty, — the presence of man. I 



48 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

believe even the Garden of Eden itself could 
not have been perfect till among its shady 
groves fell the shadows of our first parents. 
The cool retreats, the jutting promontories, the 
moss-covered rocks against which the waves 
softly break, — if these had tongues, they would, 
like Tennyson's Brook, " go on forever," for 
surely they would never have done telling the 
tender tales they have heard. Nor would it be 
possible to find a more fitting spot for the cul- 
tivation of love and sentiment than this charming 
lake affords; for Nature seems to have created 
Lake George in one of her happiest moments. 
This lake is about thirty-four miles long, and 
varies in width from one to four miles. Its 
greatest depth is about the same as that of 
Champlain. It possesses (like all the American 
lakes when used as fashionable watering-places) 
the usual three hundred and sixty-five islands. 

When I left the Mayeta I followed a narrow 
footpath to a rough mountain road, which in 
turn led me through the forests towards Lake 
George. In an isolated dell I found the home 
of one Levi Smith, who piloted me through the 
woods to the lake, and ferried me in a skiff 
across to Hague, when I dined at the hotel, and 
resumed my journey along the shores to Sabbath 
Day Point, where at four o'clock p. m. a steamer 
on its trip from Ticonderoga to the south end of 
the lake stopped and took me on board. We 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 49 

steamed southward to where high mountains 
«shut in the lake, and for several miles threaded 
the " Narrows " with its many pretty islands, 
upon one of which Mr. J. Henry Hill, the her- 
mit-artist, had erected his modest home, and 
where he toiled at his studies early and late, 
summer and winter. Three goats and a squirrel 
were his only companions in this lonely but 
romantic spot. 

During one cold winter, when the lake was 
frozen over to a depth of two feet, and the for- 
ests were mantled in snow, Mr. Hill's brother, 
a civil engineer, made a visit to this icy region, 
and the two brothers surveyed the Narrows, 
making a correct map of that portion of the lake, 
with all its islands carefully located. Mr. Hill 
afterwards made an etching of this map, sur- 
rounding it with an artistic border representing 
objects of interest in the locality. 

Late in the afternoon the steamer landed me 
at Crosbyside, on the east shore, about a mile 
from the head of the lake, resting beneath the 
shady groves of which I beheld one of the most 
charming views of Lake George. Early the fol- 
lowing morning I took up my abode with a 
farmer, one William Lockhart, a genial and 
eccentric gentleman, and a descendant of Sir 
Walter Scott's son-in-law. Mr. Lockhart's little 
cottage is half a mile north of Crosbyside, and 
near the high bluff which Mr. Charles O'Conor, 

4 



50 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the distinguished lawyer of New York city, pre- 
sented to the Paulist Fathers, whose establish-. 
ment is on Fifty-ninth Street in that metropolis. 
Here the members of the new Order come to 
pass their summer vacations, bringing with them 
their theological students. The Paulists are hard 
workers, visiting and holding "missions" in Min- 
nesota, California, and other parts of the United 
States. They seem to feel forcibly the truth 
expressed in these lines, which are to be found 
in "Aspirations of Nature," a work written by 
the founder of their order, Father Hecker: "Ex- 
istence is not a dream, but a solemn reality. 
Life was not given to be thrown away on mis- 
erable sophisms, but to be emplo3^ed in earnest 
search after truth." 

Mr. Lockhart kindly offered to escort me to the 
convent of St. Mary's on the Lake; and after 
following the mountain road for a quarter of a 
mile to the north of the cottage of my companion, 
we entered the shady grounds of the convent and 
were kindly received on the long piazza by the 
Father Superior, Rev. A. F. Hewit, who intro- 
duced me to several of his co-laborers, a party 
of them having just returned from an excursion 
to the Harbor Islands at the northern end of the 
Narrows, which property is owned by the Order. 
I was told that the members of this new religious 
establishment numbered about thirty, and that all 
but four were converts from our Protestant faith. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 5 1 

Their property in New York city is probably 
worth half a million of dollars, and the Sunday 
schools under their charge contain about fif- 
teen hundred scholars. Here, among others, 
I saw Father D , who gave up his distin- 
guished position as instructor of the art of war 
at the Military Academy of West Point, to be- 
come a soldier of the Cross, preferring to serve 
his Master by preaching the gospel of peace 
to mankind. Under an overhanging rock at a 
little distance were conversing, most happily, 
two 3^oung priests, who a few years before had 
fought on opposite sides during the civil strife 
which resulted in the preservation of the Great 
Republic. 

A mathematician and astronomer from the 
Cambridge and also from a government observa- 
tory, who had donned the cassock, gave me 
much valuable information in regard to the moun- 
tain peaks of Lake George,* which he had care- 

* Heights of mountains of Lake George, New York state, ob- 
tained by Rev. George M. Searle, C. S. P. 

Finch, between Buck and Spruce, 1595 feet. 

Cat- Head, near Bolton, 1640 feet. 

Prospect Motintain, west of Lake George village, 1730 feet. 

Sp7'uce, near Buck Mountain, 1820 feet. 

Buck, east shore, south of Narrows, 2005 feet. 

Bear, between Buck and Black, 2200 feet. 

Black, the monarch of Lake George, 2320 feet. 
From another authority I find that Lake Champlain is ninety- 
three feet above the Atlantic tide-level, and that Lake George is 
two hundred and forty feet above Lake Champlain, or three hun- 
dred and thirty-three feet above the sea. 



52 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

fully studied and accurately measured. Through 
his courtesy and generosity I am enabled to give 
on the preceding page the results of his labors. 

The interesting conversation was here inter- 
rupted by the tolling of the convent bell. A 
deep silence prevailed, as, with uncovered heads 
and upon bended knees, the whole company most 
devoutly crossed themselves while repeating 
a prayer. I felt much drawn towards a young 
priest with delicate and refined features, who 
now eno-aofed me in conversation. He was an 
adept in all that related to boats. He loved the 
beautiful lake, and was never happier than when 
upon its mirrored surface, except when laboring 
at his duties among the poor of the ninth dis- 
trict of New York. The son of a distinguished 
general, he inherited rare talents, which were 
placed at his Saviour's service. His Christianity 
was so liberal, his aspirations so noble, his sym- 
pathies so strong, that I became much interested 
in him; and when I left the lake, shortly after, 
he quietly said, "When you return next summer 
to build your cottage, let me help you plan the 
boat-house." But when I returned to the shores 
of Lake George, after the completion of my voy- 
age to the Gulf of Mexico, no helping hand was 
there, and I built my boat-house unassisted; for 
the gentle spirit of the missionary Paulist had 
gone to God who gave it, and Father Rosencranz 
was receiving his reward. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 53 

When I joined my travelling companion, David 
Bodfish, he grievously inveighed against the com- 
munity of Whitehall because some dishonest 
boatmen from the canal had appropriated the 
stock of pipes and tobacco he had laid in for his 
three or four days' voyage to Albany. " Sixty 
cents' worth of new pipes and tobacco," said Da- 
vid, in injured tones, " is a great loss, and a Bod- 
fish never was worth anything at work without 
his tobacco. I used to pour speerits down to keep 
my speerits up, but of late years I have depended 
on tobacco, as the speerits one gets nowadays 
isn't the same kind we got when I was a boy and 
worked in old Hawkin Swamp." 

Canal voyaging, after one has experienced the 
sweet influences of lakes Georo-e and Cham- 

o 

plain, is indeed monotonous. But to follow con- 
necting watercourses it was necessary for the 
Mayeta to traverse the Champlain Canal (sixty- 
four) and the Erie Canal (six miles) from White- 
hall to Albany on the Hudson River, a total 
distance of seventy miles. 

There was nothing of sufficient interest in the 
passage of the canal to be worthy of record save 
the giving wa}' of a lock-gate, near Troy, and 
the precipitating of a canal-boat into the vortex 
of waters that followed. By this accident my 
boat was detained one day on the banks of the 
canal. On the fourth day the Mayeta ended her 
services by arriving at Albany, where, after a 



54 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

journey of four hundred miles, experience had 
taught me that I could travel more quickly in a 
lighter boat, and more conveniently and econom- 
ically without a companion. It was now about 
the first week in August, and the delay which 
would attend the building of a new boat espe- 
cially adapted for the journey of two thousand 
miles yet to be travelled would not be lost, as by 
waiting a few weeks, time would be given for 
the malaria on the rivers of New Jersey, Dela- 
ware, and Maryland, and even farther south, to 
be eradicated by the fall frosts. David returned 
to his New Jersey home a happy man, invested 
with the importance which attaches itself to a 
great traveller. I had unfortunately contributed 
to Mr. Bodfish's thirst for the marvellous by 
reading to him at night, in our lonely camp, 
Jules Verne's imaginative "Journey to the Cen- 
tre of the Earth." David was in ecstasies over 
this wonderful contribution to fiction. He pre- 
ferred fiction to truth at any time. Once, while 
reading to him a chapter of the above work, his 
credulity was so challenged that he became ex- 
cited, and broke forth with, " Say, boss, how do 
these big book-men larn to lie so well? does it 
come natVal to them, or is it got by edicationV" 
I have since heard that when Mr. Bodfish arrived 
in the pine-wood regions of New Jersey he re- 
lated to his friends his adventures " in furrin 
parts," as he styled the Dominion of Canada, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 55 

and so interlaced the facts of the cruise of the 
Mayeta with the fancies of the "Journey to the 
Centre of the Earth," that to his neighbors the 
region of the St. Lawrence has become a coun- 
try of awful and mysterious associations, while 
the more knowing members of the community 
which David honors with his presence are firmly 
convinced that there never existed such a boat 
as the Mayeta save in the wild imagination of 
David Bodfish. 

Mr. Bodfish's fictitious adventures, as related 
by him, covered many thousand miles of canoe 
voyaging. He had penetrated the region of ice 
beyond Labrador, and had viewed with com- 
placency the north pole, which he found to be 
a pitch-pine spar that had been erected by 
the Coast Survey " to measure pints from." 
He roundly censured the crews of whale-ships 
which had mutilated this noble government 
work b}'^ splitting much of it into kindling-wood. 
Fortunately about two-thirds of Mr. Bodfish's 
audience had no ver}'' clear conceptions of the 
character of the north pole, some of them having 
ignored its very existence. So they accepted 
this portion of his narrative, while they rejected 
the most reasonable part of his story. 

The Mayeta was sent to Lake George, and 
afterwards became a permanent resident. Two 
years later her successor, the Paper Canoe, one 
of the most happy efforts of the Messrs. Waters, 



56 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



of Troy, was quietly moored beside her; and 
soon after there was added to the little fleet a 
cedar duck-boat, which had carried me on a 
second voyage to the great southern sea. Here, 
anchored safely under the high cliffs, rocked 
gently by the loving waters of Lake George, rest 
these faithful friends. They carried me over 
five thousand miles, through peaceful rivers and 
surging seas. They have shared my dangers; 
they now share my peace. 




^NCHORED AT LaST. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 57 



CHAPTER V. 

THE AMERICAN PAPER BOAT AND ENGLISH 
CANOES. 

THE PECULIAR CHARACTER OF THE PAPER BOAT. — THE HISTORY 
OF THE ADOPTION OF PAPER FOR BOATS. — A BOY'S INGENU- 
ITY. — THE PROCESS OF BUILDING PAPER BOATS DESCRIBED. — 
COLLEGE CLUBS ADOPTING THEM. — THE GREAT VICTORIES WON 
BY PAPER OVER WOODEN SHELLS IN 1 876. 

INQUIRIES regarding the history and dura- 
bility of paper boats occasionally reach me 
through the medium of the post-office. After 
all the uses to which paper has been put during 
the last twenty years, the public is yet hardly 
convinced that the flimsy material, paper, can 
successfully take the place of wood in the con- 
struction of light pleasure-boats, canoes, and 
racing shells. Yet the idea has become an ac- 
complished fact. The success of the victorious 
paper shells of the Cornell College navy, which 
were enlisted in the struggles of two seasons at 
Saratoga, against no mean antagonists, — the col- 
lege crews of the United States, — surely proves 
that in strength, stiffness, speed, and fineness of 
model, the paper boat is without a rival. 

When used in its own peculiar sphere, the 



58 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

improved paper boat will be found to possess the 
following merits: less weight, greater sb"ength, 
stiffness, durability, and speed than a wooden 
boat of the same size and model; and the moulded 
paper shell will retain the delicate lines so essen- 
tial to speed, while the brittle wooden shell yields 
more or less to the warping influences of sun and 
moisture. A comparison of the strength of wood 
and paper for boats has been made by a writer in 
the Cornell Times, a journal published by the 
students of that celebrated New York college: 
" Let us take a piece of wood and a piece of 
paper of the same thickness, and experiment 
with, use, and abuse them both to the same ex- 
tent. Let the wood be of one-eighth of an inch 
in thickness — the usual thickness of shell-boats, 
and the paper heavy pasteboard, both one foot 
square. Holding them up by one side, strike 
them with a hammer, and observe the result. 
The wood will be cracked, to say the least ; 
the pasteboard, whirled out of your hand, will 
only be dented, at most. Take hold and bend 
them: the wood bends to a certain degree, and 
then splits; the pasteboard, bent to the same de- 
gree, is not affected in the least. Take a knife 
and strike them: the wood is again split, the 
pasteboard only pierced. Place them on the 
water: the wood floats for an indefinite time; the 
pasteboard, after a time, soaks, and finally sinks, 
as was to be expected. But suppose we soak the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 59 

pasteboard in marine glue before the experiment, 
then we find the pasteboard equally as imper- 
vious to the water as wood, and as buoyant, if of 
the same weight; but, to be of the same weight, 
it must be thinner than the wood, yet even then 
it stands the before-mentioned tests as well as 
when thicker; and it will be found to stand all 
tests much better than wood, even when it 
weighs considerably less. 

" Now, enlarging our pieces, and moulding 
them into boats of the same weight, we find the 
following differences: Wood, being stiff and 
liable to split, can only be moulded into com- 
parative form. Paper, since it can be rendered 
perfectly pliable, can be pressed into any shape 
desirable; hence, any wished-for fineness of lines 
can be given to the model, and the paper will 
assume the identical shape, after which it can be 
Avater-proofed, hardened, and polished. Paper 
neither swells, nor shrinks, nor cracks, hence it 
does not leak, is always ready for use, always 
serviceable. As to cost, there is very little dif- 
ference between the two; the cost being within 
twent3^-five dollars, more or less, the same for 
both. . Those who use paper boats think them 
very near perfection; and surely those who have 
the most to do with boats ought to know, preju- 
dice aside, which is the best." 

An injury to a paper boat is easily repaired by 
a patch of strong paper and a coating of shellac 



6o VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

put on with a hot iron. As the paper boat is 
a novelty with many people, a sketch of its early 
history may prove interesting to the reader. Mr. 
George A. Waters, the son of the senior member 
of the firm of E. Waters & Sons, of Troy, New 
York, was invited some years since to a masquer- 
ade part}^ The boy repaired to a toy shop to 
purchase a counterfeit face; but, thinking the 
price (eight dollars) was more than he could 
afford for a single evening's sport, he borrowed 
the mask for a model, from which he produced a 
duplicate as perfect as was the original. While 
engaged upon his novel work, an idea impressed 
itself upon his ingenious brain. " Cannot," he 
queried, "a paper shell be made upon the wooden 
model of a boat? And will not a shell thus pro- 
duced, after being treated to a coat of varnish, 
float as well, and be lighter than a wooden boat?" 
This was in March, 1867, while the youth was 
engaged in the manufacture of paper boxes. 
Having repaired a wooden shell-boat by cover- 
ing the cracks with sheets of stout paper cemented 
to the wood, the result satisfied him; and he im- 
mediately applied his attention to the further 
development of his bright idea. Assisted by his 
father, Mr. Elisha Waters, the enterprise was 
commenced " by taking a wooden shell, thirteen 
inches wide and thirty feet long, as a mould, 
and covering the entire surface of its bottom and 
sides with small sheets of strong Manila paper, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 6 I 

glued together, and superposed on each other, so 
that the joints of one layer were covered by the 
middle of the sheet immediately above, until a 
sheet of paper had been formed one-sixteenth of 
an inch in thickness. The fabric thus con- 
structed, after being carefully dried, was re- 
moved from the mould and fitted up with a 
suitable frame, consisting of a lower keelson, two 
inwales, the bulkhead; in short, all the usual 
parts of the frame of a wooden shell, except the 
timbers, or ribs, of which none were used — the 
extreme stiffness of the skin rendering them un- 
necessary. Its surface was then carefully water- 
proofed with suitable varnishes, and the work was 
completed. Trials proved that, rude as was this 
first attempt compared with the elegant craft 
now turned out from paper, it had marked merits, 
among which were, its remarkable stiffness, the 
S3'mmetry of the hull with respect to its long 
axis, and the smoothness of the water-surface." 

A gentleman, who possesses excellent judg- 
ment and long experience in all that relates to 
paper boats, furnishes me with the following 
valuable information, which I feel sure will inter- 
est the reader. 

" The process of building the paper shell-boat 
is as follows: The dimensions of the boat having 
been determined upon, the first step is to con- 
struct a wooden model, or form, an exact fac- 
simile of the desired boat, on which to mould 



62 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the paper skin. For this purpose the lines of the 
boat are carefully drawn out of the full size, and 
from the drawings thus made the model is pre- 
pared. It is built of layers of well-seasoned 
pine, securely fastened together to form one solid 
mass; which, after having been laid up of the 
general outline required, is carefully worked off, 
until its surface, which is made perfectly smooth, 
exactly conforms to the selected lines, and its 
beam, depth, and length are those of the given 
boat. During the process of its construction, 
suitable rabbets are cut to receive the lower keel- 
son, the two inwales, and the bow and stern 
deadwoods, which, being put in position, are 
worked off so that their surfaces are flush with 
that of the model, and forming, as it were, an 
integral part of it. It being important that these 
parts should, in the completed boat, be firmly 
attached to the skin, their surface is, at this part 
of the process, covered with a suitable adhesive 
preparation. 

" The model is now ready to be covered with 
paper. Two kinds are used: that made from the 
best Manila, and that prepared from pure un- 
bleached linen stock; the sheets being the full 
length of the model, no matter what that may 
be. If Manila paper is used, the first sheet is 
dampened, laid smoothly on the model, and 
securely fastened in place by tacking it to cer- 
tain rough strips attached to its upper face. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 6^ 

Other sheets are now superposed on this and on 
each other, and suitably cemented together; the 
number depending upon the size of the boat and 
the stiffness required. If linen paper is used, but 
one sheet is employed, of such weight and di- 
mensions that, when dry, it will give just the 
thickness of skin necessary. Should the surface 
of the model be concave in parts, as in the run 
of boats with square sterns for instance, the paper 
is made to conform to these surfaces by suitable 
convex moulds, which also hold the paper in 
place until, by drying, it has taken and will re- 
tain the desired form. The model, with its 
enveloping coat of paper, is now removed to the 
dry-room. As the paper skin dries, all wrinkles 
disappear, and it gradually assumes the desired 
shape. Finally, when all moisture has been 
evaporated, it is taken from the mould an exact 
fac-simile of the model desired, exceedingly stiff, 
perfectly symmetrical, and seamless. 

"The paper is now subjected to the water-proof 
process, and the skin, with its keelson, inwales, 
and dead-woods attached, is then placed in the 
carpenter's hands, where the frame is completed 
in the usual manner, as described for wooden 
boats. The paper decks being put on, it is then 
ready for the brass, iron, and varnish work. As 
the skins of these boats (racing-shells) vary from 
one-sixteenth of an inch in the sing-les, to one- 
twelfth of an inch in the six-oared outrig-ofers, the 



64 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

"wooden frame becomes necessary to support and 
keep them in shape. In applying this invention 
to gigs, dingys, canoes, and skitTs, a somewhat 
different method is adopted. Since these boats 
are subjected to much hard service, and must be 
so constructed as to permit the occupant to move 
about in them as is usual in such craft, a light 
and strong frame of wood is prepared, composed 
of a suitable number of pairs of ribs, with stem 
and stern pieces cut from the natural crooks of 
hackmatack roots. These are firmly framed to 
two gunwales and a keelson, extending the 
length of the boat; the whole forming the skele- 
ton shape of the desired model. The forms for 
these boats having been prepared, as already 
described for the racing-shells, and the frame 
being let into this form, so that the outer surface 
of the ribs, stem and stern pieces will conform 
with its outer surface, the paper skin is next laid 
upon it. The skin, manufactured from new, un- 
bleached linen stock, is carefully stretched in 
place, and when perfectly dry is from one-tenth 
to three-sixteenths of an inch thick. Removed 
from the model, it is water-proofed, the frame 
and fittings completed, and the boat varnished. 
In short, in this class of boats, the shape, style, 
and finish are precisely that of wooden ones, of 
corresponding dimensions and class, except that 
for the usual wooden sheathing is substituted the 
paper skin as described. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 65 

" The advantages possessed by these boats over 
those of wood are: 

" By the use of this material for the skins of 
racing-shells, where experience has demonstrated 
the smooth bottom to be the best, under-water 
lines of any degree of fineness can be developed, 
which cannot successfully be produced in those 
of wood, even where the streaks are so reduced 
in thickness that strength, stiffness, and durabil- 
ity are either wholly sacrificed or greatly im- 
paired. In the finer varieties of ' dug-outs ' 
equally fine lines can be obtained; but so delicate 
are such boats, if the sides are reduced to three- 
sixteenths of an inch or less in thickness, that it 
is found practically impossible to preserve their 
original forms for any length of time. Hence, 
so far as this point is concerned, it only remains 
for the builder to select those models which 
science, guided by experience, points out as the 
best. 

" The paper skin, after being water-proofed, is 
finished with hard varnishes, and then presents a 
solid, perfectly smooth, and horny surface to the 
action of the water, unbroken hy joint ^ lap, or 
seam. This surface admits of being polished as 
smooth as a coach-panel or a mirror. Unlike 
wood, it has no grain to be cracked or split, it 
never shrinks, and, paper being one of the best 
of non- conductors, no ordinary degree of heat 
or cold affects its shape or hardness, and hence 

. 5 



66 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

these boats are admirably adapted for use in all 
climates. As the skin absorbs no moisture, 
t/iese boats gain no weight by 7cse, and, having 
no moisture to give off when out of the water, 
they do not, like wooden boats, show the effect 
of exposure to the air by leaking. They are, 
therefore, in this respect always prepared for 
service. 

"The strength and stiffness of the paper shells 
are most remarkable. To demonstrate it, a sin- 
gle shell of twelve inch beam and twenty-eight 
feet long, fitted complete with its outriggers, 
the hull weighing twenty-two pounds, was 
placed on two tixstles eight feet apart, in such a 
manner that the trestles were each the same 
distance from the centre of the cockpit, which 
was thus entirely unsupported. A man weigh- 
ing one hundred and forty pounds then seated 
himself in it, and remained in this position three 
minutes. The deflection caused by this strain, 
being accurately measured, was found to be one- 
sixteenth of an inch at a point midway between 
the supports. If this load, applied under such 
abnormal conditions, produced so little effect, we 
can safely assume that, when thus loaded and 
resting on the water, supported throughout her 
whole length, and the load far more equally dis- 
tributed over the whole frame, there would be 
no deflection whatever. 

" Lightness, when combined with a proper, stiff- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 67 

ness and strength, being a very desirable quality, 
it is here that the paper boats far excel their wood- 
en rivals. If two shells are selected, the one of 
wood and the other with a paper skin and deck, 
as has been described, of the same dimensions 
and equally stiffs careful experiment proves that 
the wooden one will be thirty -per cent, the 
heaviest. If those of the same dimensions and 
equal weight are compared, the paper one will 
be found to exceed the wooden one in stitTness 
and in capacity to resist torsional strains in the 
same proportion. Frequent boasts are made that 
wooden shells can be and are built much lighter 
than paper ones; and if the quality of lightness 
alone is considered, this is true; yet when the 
practical test of tise is applied, such extremely 
light wooden boats have always proved, and will 
continue to prove, failures, as here this quality 
is only one of a number which combine to make 
the boat serviceable. A wooden shell whose 
hull weighs twenty-two pounds, honest weight, 
is a very fragile, short-lived affair. A paper 
shell of the same dimensions, and of the same 
weight, will last as long, and do as much work, 
as a wooden one whose hull turns the beam at 
thirty pounds. 

" An instance of their remarkable strength is 
shown in the following case. In the summer of 
1870, a single shell, while being rowed at full 
speed, with the current, on one of our princi- 



68 . VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

pal rivers, was run into the stone abutment of a 
bridge. The bow struck squarely on the obsta- 
cle, and such was the momentum of the mass that 
the oarsman was thrown directly through the 
flaring bow of the cockpit into the river. Wit- 
nesses of the accident who were familiar with 
wooden shells declared that the boat was ruined; 
but, after a careful examination, only the bow-tip 
was found to be twisted in a spiral form, and the 
washboard broken at the point by the oarsman 
as he passed between the sides. Two dollars 
covered the cost of repair. Had it been a 
wooden shell the shock would have crushed its 
stem and splintered the skin from the bow to the 
waist." 

Old and cautious seamen tried to dissuade me 
from contracting with the Messrs. Waters for the 
building of a stout paper canoe for my journey. 
Harvard College had not adopted this " new- 
fangled notion " at that time, and Cornell had 
only begun to think of attempting to out-row 
other colleges at Saratoga by using paper boats. 
The Centennial year of the independence of the 
United States, 1876, settled all doubts as to the 
value of the result of the years of toil of the in- 
ventors of the paper boat. During the same 
year the incendiary completed his revengeful 
work by burning the paper-boat manufactory 
at Troy. The loss was a heavy one; but a few 
weeks later these unflinching men were able to 



o 

ro 

o 
k; 

> 
z 
o 

w 




VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 69 

record the following victories achieved that sin- 
gle season by their boats. 

The races won by the paper boats were: 

The Intercollegiate Championship : 

Freshmen and University. 

The International Championship at Saratoga : 

Singles, Doubles, and Fours. 

The National Championship, N. A. of A. O. : 

Singles, Doubles, and Fours. 

The World's Championship at Centennial Exhibition : 

Singles, Doubles, and Fours. 

The Professional Championship of the United States. 

And every other important race of the season, 
besides receiving the highest honors at the Cen- 
tennial Exhibition. The right to make boats of 
paper in Canada and in the United States is ex- 
clusively held by the Messrs. Waters, and they 
are the only manufacturers of paper boats in 
the world. 

It is not many years since Mr. McGregor, of 
London, built the little Rob Roy canoe, and in it 
made the tour of interesting European waters. 
His example was followed by an army of tourists, 
and it is now a common thing to meet canoe 
voyagers in miniature flotillas upon the water- 
courses of our own and foreign lands. Rev. 
Baden Powell, also an Englishman, perfected 
the model of the Nautilus type of canoe, which 
possesses a great deal of sheer with fullness of 
bow, and is therefore a better boat for rough 



70 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

water than the Rob Roy. The New York Canoe 
Club have adopted the Nautilus for their model. 
We still need a distinctive American type for our 
waters, more like the best Indian canoe than the 
European models here presented. These mod- 
ern yacht-like canoes are really improved kyahs, 
and in their construction we are much indebted 
to the experience of the inhabitants of the Arctic 
Circle. Very few of the so-called Rob Roy ca- 
noes, built in the United States, resemble the 
original perfected boat of Mr. McGregor — the 
father of modern canoe travellinsr. The illus- 
trations given of English canoes are from import- 
ed models, and are perfect of their type. 




Capyrigltt. 1878. by Lee A. Shspard 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 7 1 



CHAPTER VI. 

TROY TO PHILADELPHIA. 

PAPER CANOE MARIA THERESA. — THE START. — THE DESCENT 
OF THE HUDSON RIVER. — CROSSING THE UPPER BAY OF NEW 
YORK. — PASSAGE OF THE KILLS. — RARITAN RIVER. — THE 
CANAL ROUTE FROM NEW BRUNSWICK TO THE DELAWARE 
RIVER. — FROM BORDENTOWN TO PHILADELPHIA. 

MY canoe of the English " Nautilus " type 
was completed by the middle of October; 
and on the cold, drizzly morning of the 21st of 
the same month I embarked in my little fifty- 
eight pound craft from the landing of the paper- 
boat manufactory on the river Hudson, two miles 
above Troy. Mr. George A. Waters put his 
own canoe into the water, and proposed to 
escort me a few miles down the river. If I 
had any misgivings as to the stability of my 
paper canoe upon entering her for the first time, 
they were quickly dispelled as I passed the 
stately Club-house of the Laureates, which con- 
tained nearly forty shells, all of paper. 

The dimensions of the Maria Theresa were: 
length, fourteen feet; beam, twenty-eight inches; 
depth, amidships, nine inches; height of bow 
from horizontal line, twenty-three inches; height 



72 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

of stern, twenty inches. The canoe was one- 
eighth of an inch in thickness, and weighed 
fifty-eight pounds. She was fitted with a pair 
of steel outriggers, which could be easily un- 
shipped and stowed away. The oars were of 
spruce, seven feet eight inches long, and weighed 
three pounds and a quarter each. The double 
paddle, which was seven feet six inches in length, 
weighed two pounds and a half The mast 
and sail — which are of no service on such a 
miniature vessel, and were soon discarded — 
weighed six pounds. When I took on board at 
Philadelphia the canvas deck-cover and the rub- 
ber strap which secured it in position, and the 
outfit, — the cushion, sponge, provision-basket, 
and a fifteen-pound case of charts, — I found that, 
with my own weight included (one hundred and 
thirt}' pounds), the boat and her cargo, all told, 
provisioned for a long cruise, fell considerably 
short of the weight of three Saratoga trunks 
containing a very modest wardrobe for a lady's 
four weeks' visit at a fashionable watering-place. 
The rain ceased, the mists ascended, and the 
sunlight broke upon us as we swiftly descended 
upon the current of the Hudson to Albany. The 
city was reached in an hour and a half. Mr. 
Waters, pointing his canoe northward, wished me 
bon voyage^ and returned to the scene of the tri- 
umphs of his patient labors, while I settled down 
to a steady row southward. At Albany, the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 73 

capital of the state, which is said to be one hun- 
dred and fifty miles distant from New York city, 
there is a tidal rise and fall of one foot. 

A feeling of buoyancy and independence came 
over me as I glided on the current of this noble 
stream, with the consciousness that I now pos- 
sessed the right boat for my enterprise. It had 
been a dream of my youth to become acquainted 
with the charms of this most romantic river of 
the American continent. Its sources are in the 
clouds of the Adirondacks, among the cold peaks 
of the northern wilderness; its ending may be 
said to be in the briny waters of the Atlantic, 
for its channel-way has been sounded outside 
of the sandy beaches of New York harbor in 
the bosom of the restless ocean. The hig^hest 
types of civilized life are nurtured upon its banks. 
Noble edifices, which contain and preserve the 
works of genius and of mechanical art, rear their 
proud roofs from among these hills on the lofty 
sites of the picturesque Hudson. The wealth 
of the great city at its" mouth, the metropolis of 
the young nation, has been lavished upon the 
soil of the river's borders to make it even more 
beautiful, and more fruitful. What river in 
America, along the same length of coast-lines 
as from Troy to New York (one hundred and 
fifty-six miles), can rival in natural beauty 
and artificial applications of wealth the lovely 
Hudson? "The Hudson River," says its genial 



74 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

historian, Mr. Lossing, " from its birth among 
the mountains to its marriage with the ocean, 
measures a distance of full three hundred 
miles." 

Captain John Smith's friend, the Englishman 
Henry Hudson, while in the employ of the 
Dutch East India Company, in his vessel of 
ninety tons, the Half-Moon, being in search 
of a northwest passage south of Virginia, cast 
anchor outside of Sandy Hook, September 3, 
1609, and on the nth passed up through the 
Narrows into the present bay of New York. 
Under the firm conviction that he was on his 
way to the long-sought Cathay, a day later he 
entered the Hudson River, where now stands 
the proud metropolis of America. As the Half- 
Moon ascended the river the water lost its salt- 
ness, and by the time they were anchored where 
the city of Albany now stands all hopes of Cathay 
faded from the heart of the mariner. Englishmen 
called this river in honor of its discoverer, but the 
Dutch gave it the name of North River, after 
the Delaware had been discovered and named 
South River. Thus, while in 1609 Samuel 
Champlain was exploring the lake which bears 
his name, Hudson was ascending his river upon 
the southern water-shed. The historian tells us 
that these bold explorers penetrated the wilder- 
ness, one from the north and the other from the 
south, to within one hundred miles of each other. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 75 

The same historian (Dr. Lossing) says: "The 
most remote source of the extreme western 
branch of our noble river is Hendricks Spring, 
so named in honor of Hendricks Hudson. We 
found Hendricks Spring in the edge of a swamp, 
cold, shallow, about five feet in diameter, — 
shaded by trees, shrubbery, and vines, and fringed 
with the delicate brake and fern. Its waters, 
rising within half a mile of Long Lake, and upon 
the same summit-level, flow southward to the 
Atlantic more than three hundred miles j while 
those of the latter flow to the St. Lawrence, and 
reach the same Atlantic a thousand miles away 
to the far northeast." 

Since Dr. Lossing visited the western head of 
the Hudson River, the true and highest source 
of the stream has probably been settled by a 
gentleman possessing scientific acquirements and 
inflexible purpose. On the plateau south of 
Mount Marcy, State-Surveyor Colvin found 
the little Lake Tear-of-the-Clouds to be the 
loftiest sheet of water in the state, — four thou- 
sand three hundred and twenty-six feet above 
the sea, — and proved it to be the lake-head of 
the great river Hudson. A second little pond in 
a marsh on a high plateau, at the foot of Mount 
Redfield, was also discovered, — "margined and 
embanked with luxuriant and deep sphagnous 
moss," — which was named by the party Moss 
Lake. It was found to flow into the Hudson. 



76 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

A beautiful little bivalve shell, three-sixteenths 
of an inch in diameter, of an undescribed species, 
was found in the pellucid water, and thus a new 
shell was handed over to conchology, and a new 
river source to geography, in the same hour. 
This pool is four thousand three hundred and 
twelve feet above tide-water, and only a few feet 
lower than its sister, Tear-of-the-Clouds — the 
highest source of the Hudson. 

Should the state of New York adopt Mr. Col- 
vin's suggestion, to reserve six hundred square 
miles of the Adirondack region for a public park, 
the pool Tear-of-the-Clouds will be within the 
reservation. The waters of these baby foun- 
tains are swollen by contributions from the 
streams, ponds, and lakes of the Adirondack 
wilderness, until along the banks of Fishing 
Brook, a tributary of the Hudson, the water is 
utilized at the first saw-mill. A few miles lower 
down the forests are vexed by the axe of the 
lumbermen, and logs are floated down the river 
one hundred miles to Glens Falls, where the 
State Dam and Great Boom are located. Half 
a million logs have been gathered there in a sin- 
gle spring. 

It was upon the Hudson that the first suc- 
cessful steamboat, built by Robert Fulton, made 
its voyage to Albany, the engine having been 
built by Watt & Bolton, in England. 

From Mr. Lossing we obtain the following. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



77 



" The Clermont was one hundred feet long, 
twelve feet wide, and seven feet deep. The 
following advertisement appeared in the Albany 
Gazette on the ist of September, 1807: 

" The North River steamboat will leave Paulus Hook (Jersey- 
City) on Friday, the 4th of September, at 9 in the morning, and 
arrive at Albany on Saturday at 9 in the afternoon. Provisions, 
good berths, and accommodations are provided. The charge to 
each passenger is as follows 

3 Dollars. 

4 

5 



To Nevvburgh, . . 

" Poughkeepsie, . 

" Esopus, . . . 

" Hudson, . . . 

" Albany, . . . 



Time, 14 hours. 
. " 17 " 
. " 20 " 
. " 30 " 
• " 36 " .' 



The trip, which was made against a strong 
head wind, was entirely successful. The large 
steamers can now make the trip from New York 
to Albany in about ten hours. 

As I pulled easily along the banks of the river, 
my eyes feasted upon the gorgeous coloring of 
the autumnal foliage, which formed a scene of 
beauty never to be forgotten. The rapid absorp- 
tion of oxygen by the leaves in the fall months 
produces, in northern America, these vivid tints 
which give to the country the appearance of a 
land covered with a varied and brilliant garment, 
"a coat of many colors." A soft, hazy light per- 
vaded the atmosphere, while at the same time 
the October air was gently exhilarating to the 
nervous system. At six o'clock p. m. the canoe 



78 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

arrived at Hudson City, which is on the east 
bank of the river, and I completed a row of 
thirty-eight statute miles, according to local au- 
thority; but in reality forty-nine miles by the 
correct charts of the United States Coast Survey. 
After storing the Maria Theresa in a shed, I re- 
paired to a dismal hotel for the night. 

At seven o'clock the next morning the river 
was mantled in a dense fog, but I pushed off and 
guided myself by the sounds of the running 
trains on the Hudson River Railroad. This cor- 
poration does such an immense amount of 
freighting that, if their freight trains were con- 
nected, a continuous line of eighty miles would 
be constructed, of which sixteen miles are 
alwa3's in transit day and night. Steamboats 
and tugs with canal-boats in to^v Avere groping 
about the river in the misty darkness, blowing 
whistles every few minutes to let people know 
that the pilot was not sleeping at the wheel. 
There was a grand clearing up at noon; and as 
the sun broke through the mist, the beautiful 
shores came into view like a vivid flame of 
scarlet, yellow, brown, and green. It "was the 
death-song of summer, and her dying notes the 
tinted leaves, each one giving to the wind a sad 
strain as it softly dropped to the earth, or was 
quickly hurled into space. 

A few miles south of Hudson City, on the 
west bank, the.Catskill stream enters the river. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 79 

From this point the traveller may penetrate the 
picturesque country of the Appalachian range, 
where its wild elevations were called Onti Ova, 
or "mountains of the sky," by the aborigines. 

Roundout, on the right bank of the Hudson, 
is the terminus of the Delaware and Hudson 
Canal, which connects it with Port Jervis on the 
Delaware, a distance of fifty-four miles. This 
town, the outlet of the coal regions, I passed 
after meridian. As I left Hudson on the first of 
the fiood-tide, I had to combat it for several 
hours; but I easily reached Hyde Park Landing 
(which is on the left bank of the stream and, by 
local authority, thirty-five miles from Hudson 
City) at five o'clock p. m. The wharf-house 
sheltered the canoe, and a hotel in the village, 
half a mile distant on the high plains, its owner. 
I was upon the river by seven o'clock the next 
morning. The day was varied by strong gusts 
of wind succeeded by calms. Six miles south 
of Hyde Park is the beautiful city of Pough- 
keepsie with its eighteen thousand inhabitants, 
and the celebrated Vassar Female College. Eight 
miles down the river, and on the same side, is a 
small village called New Hamburg. The rocky 
promontory at the foot of which the town is 
built is covered with the finest arbor vitse forest 
probably in existence. Six miles below, on the 
west bank, is the important city of Newburg, 
one of the termini of the New York and Erie 



8o VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Railroad. Four miles below, the river narrows 
and presents a grand view of the north entrance 
of the Highlands, with the Storm King Mountain 
rising fully one thousand five hundred feet above 
the tide. The early Dutch navigators gave to 
this peak the name o^ Boter-btirg (B;itter-Hill) , 
but it was rechristened Storm King by the au- 
thor N. P. Willis, whose late residence, Idlewild, 
commands a fine view of Newburg Bay. 

When past the Storm King, the Crow-Nest and 
the almost perpendicular front of Kidd's Plug 
Cliff tower aloft, and mark the spot where Kidd 
(as usual) was supposed to have buried a por- 
tion of that immense sum of money with which 
popular belief invests hundreds of localities 
along the watercourses of the continent. Now 
the Narrows above West Point were entered, 
and the current against a head-wind made the 
passage unusually exciting. The paper canoe 
danced over the boiling expanse of water, and 
neared the west shore about a mile above the 
United States Military Academy, when a shell, 
from a gun on the grounds of that institution, 
burst in the water within a few feet of the boat. 
I now observed a target set upon a little flat at 
the foot of a gravelly hill close to the beach. 
As a second, and finally a third shell exploded 
near me, I rowed into the rough water, much dis- 
gusted with cadet-practice and military etiquette. 
After dark the canoe was landed on the deck of 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 8 I 

a schooner which was discharging slag or cinder 
at Fort Montgomery Landing. I scrambled up 
the hill to the only shelter that could be found, a 
small country store owned by a Captain Conk 
who kept entertainment for the traveller. Rough 
fellows and old crones came in to talk about the 
spooks that had been seen in the neighboring 
hills. It was veritable "Sleepy Hollow" talk. 
The physician of the place, they said, had been 
" skert clean off a bridge the other night." 

Embarking the following morning from this 
weird and hilly country, that prominent natural 
feature, Anthony's Nose, which was located on 
the opposite shore, strongly appealed to my im- 
agination and somewhat excited my mirth. One 
needs a powerful imagination, I thought, to live 
in these regions where the native element, the 
hill-folk, dwell so fondly and earnestly upon the 
ghostly and mysterious. Three miles down the 
river, Dunderberg, "the thundering mountain," 
on the west bank, with the town of Peekskill on 
the opposite shore, was passed, and I entered 
Haverstraw Bay, the widest part of the river. 
" Here," says the historian, " the fresh and salt 
water usually contend, most equally, for the 
mastery; and here the porpoise is often seen in 
large numbers sporting in the summer sun. Here 
in the spring vast numbers of shad are caught 
while on their way to spawning-beds in fresh- 
water coves." Haverstraw Bay was crossed, and 



82 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Tarrytown passed, when I came to the pictur- 
esque little cottage of a great man now gone 
from among us. Many pleasant memories of 
his tales rose in my mind as I looked upon 
Sunnyside, the home of Washington Irving, 
nestled in the grove of living green, its white 
stuccoed walls glistening in the bright sunlight, 
and its background of grand villas looming up on 
every side. At Irvington Landing, a little further 
down the river, I went ashore to pass Sunday 
with friends; and on the Monday following, in a 
dense fog, proceeded on my route to New York. 

Below Irvington the far-famed ^' Palisades," 
bold-faced precipices of trap-rock, offer their 
grandest appearance on the west side of the 
Hudson. These singular bluffs, near Hoboken, 
present a perpendicular front of three hundred or 
four hundred feet in height. Piles of broken rock 
rest ao^ainst their base: the contribution of the 
cliffs above from the effects of frost and sun. 

While approaching the great city of New 
York, strong squalls of wind, blowing against 
the ebb-tide, sent swashy waves into my open 
canoe, the sides of which, amidships, were only 
five or six inches above water; but the great 
buoyanc}^ of the light craft and its very smooth 
exterior created but little friction in the water 
and made her very seaworthy, when carefully 
watched and handled, even without a deck of 
canvas or wood. While the canoe forged ahead 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 83 

through the troubled waters, and the breezes 
loaded with the saltness of the sea now near at 
hand struck my back, I confess that a longing to 
reach Philadelphia, where I could complete my 
outfit and increase the safety of my little craft, 
gave renewed vigor to my stroke as I exchanged 
the quiet atmosphere of the country for the 
smoke and noise of the cit}^ Every instinct was 
now challenged, and every muscle brought into 
action, as I dodged tug-boats, steamers, yachts, 
and vessels, while running the thoroughfare 
along the crowded wharves between New York 
on one side and Jersey City on the other. I 
found the slips between the piers most excellent 
ports of refuge at times, when the ferry-boats, 
following each other in quick succession, made 
the river with its angry tide boil like a vortex. 
The task soon ended, and I left the Hudson at 
Castle Garden and entered the upper bay of New 
York harbor. As it was dark, I would gladly 
have gone ashore for the night, but a great city 
offers no inducement for a canoeist to land as a 
stranger at its wharves. 

A much more pleasant reception awaited me 
down on Staten Island, a gentleman having noti- 
fied me by mail that he would welcome the ca- 
noe and its owner. The ebb had ceased, and 
the incoming tide was being already felt close 
in shore; so with tide and wind against me, 
and the darkness of night settling down gloomily 



84 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

upon the wide bay, I pulled a strong oar for five 
miles to the entrance of Kill Van Kull Strait, 
which separates Staten Island from New Jersey 
and connects the upper bay with Raritan Bay. 

The bright beams from the light-house on 
Robbin's Reef, which is one mile and a quarter 
off the entrance of the strait, guided me on my 
course. The head-sea, in little, splashy waves, 
began to fill my canoe. The water soon reached 
the foot-rest; but there was no time to stop to 
bale out the boat, for a friendly current was near, 
and if once reached, my little craft would enter 
smoother waters. The flood which poured into 
the mouth of Kill Van Kull soon caught my 
boat, and the head-tide was changed to a favor- 
able current which carried me in its strong arms 
far into the salt-water strait, and I reached West 
New Brighton, along the high banks of which I 
found my haven of rest. Against the sky I 
traced the outlines of my land-mark, three pop- 
lars, standing sentinel-like before the house of 
the gentleman who had so kindly offered me his 
hospitality. The canoe was emptied of its shift- 
ing liquid ballast and carefully sponged dr}'. 
My host and his son carried it into the main hall 
of the mansion and placed it upon the floor, 
where the entire household gathered, an admir- 
ing group. Proud, indeed, might my dainty 
craft have been of the appreciation of so lovely 
a company. .Her master fully appreciated the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 85 

generous board of his kind host, and in present 
comfort soon forgot past trials and his wet pull 
across the upper bay of New York harbor. 

My work for the next day, October 27th, was 
the navigation of the interesting strait of the old 
Dutch settlers and the Raritan River, of New 
Jersey, as far as New Brunswick. The average 
width of Kill Van Kull is three-eighths of a mile. 
From its entrance, at Constable's Point, to the 
mouth of Newark Bay, which enters it on the 
Jersey side, it is three miles, and nearly two 
miles across the bay to Elizabethport. Bergen 
Point is on the east and Elizabethport on the west 
entrance of the bay, while on Staten Island, New 
Brighton, Factoryville, and North Shore, furnish 
homes for many New York business men. 

At Elizabethport the strait narrows to one 
eighth of a mile, and as the mouth of the Rah- 
way is approached it widens. It now runs 
through marshes for most of the way, a distance 
of twelve miles to Raritan Bay, which is an arm 
of the lower bay of New York harbor. The 
strait, from Elizabethport to its mouth, is called 
Arthur Kill; the whole distance through the 
Kills, from Constable's Point to Raritan Ba}^, is 
about seventeen statute miles. At the mouth of 
Arthur Kill the Raritan River opens to the bay, 
and the city of Perth Amboy rests on the point 
of high land between the river and the strait. 

Roseville and Tottenville are on the Staten 



86 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Island shores of Arthur Kill, the former six 
miles, the latter ten miles from Elizabethport. 
The tide runs swiftly through the Kills. Leav- 
ing Mr. Campbell's residence at nine a. m., with 
a tide in my favor as far as Newark Bay, I soon 
had the tide ag^ainst me from the other Kill until 
I passed the Rah way River, when it commenced 
to ebb towards Raritan Bay. The marshy shores 
of the Kills were submerged in places by the 
high tide, but their monotony was reUeved by 
the farms upon the hills back of the flats. 

At one o'clock my canoe rounded the heights 
upon which Perth Amboy is perched, with its 
snug cottages, the homes of many oysterraen 
whose fleet of boats was anchored in front of the 
town. Curious 3'ard-like pens constructed of 
poles rose out of the water, in which boats could 
find shelter from the rough sea. 

The entrance to the Raritan River is wide, 
and above its mouth it is crossed by a long rail- 
road bridge. The pull up the crooked river 
(sixteen miles) against a strong ebb-tide, through 
extensive reedy marshes, was uninteresting. I 
came upon the entrance of the canal which con- 
nects the rivers Raritan and Delaware after six 
o'clock p. M., which at this season of the year 
was after dark. Hiding the canoe in a secure 
place I went to visit an old friend, Professor 
George Cook, of the New Jersey State Geological 
Survey, who resides at New Brunswick. In the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 87 

morning the professor kindly assisted me, and 
we climbed the high bank of the canal with the 
canoe upon our shoulders, putting it into the 
water below the first two locks. I now com- 
menced an unexciting row of forty-two miles to 
Bordentown, on the Delaware, where this artifi- 
cial watercourse ends. 

This canal is much travelled by steam tugs 
towing schooners of two hundred tons, and by 
barges and canal-boats of all sizes drawing not 
above seven feet and a half of water. The 
boats are drawn through the locks by stationary 
steam-engines, the use of which is discontinued 
when the business becomes slack; then the boat- 
men use their mules for the same purpose. To 
tow an average-sized canal-boat, loaded, requires 
four mules, while an empty one is easily drawn 
by two. It proved most expeditious as well as 
convenient not to trouble the lock-master to open 
the gates, but to secure his assistance in carrying 
the canoe along the tow-path to the end of the 
lock, which service occupied less than five min- 
utes. In this way the canoe was carried around 
seven locks the first day, and when dusk ap- 
proached she was sheltered beside a paper shell 
in the boat-house of Princeton College Club, 
which is located on the banks of the canal about 
one mile and a half from the city of Princeton. 

In this narrow watercourse these indefatiga- 
ble collegians, under great disadvantages, drill 



88 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

their crews for the annual intercolleofiate strusfSfle 
for championship. One Noah Reed provided 
entertainment for man and beast at his country 
inn half a mile from the boat-house, and thither 
I repaired for the night. 

This da3^'s row of twenty-six miles and a 
half had been through a hilly country, abound- 
ing in rich farm lands which were well culti- 
vated. The next morning an officer of the 
Princeton Bank awaited my coming on the banks 
of the sluggish canal. He had taken an early 
walk from the town to see the canoe. At Bak- 
er's Basin the bridge-tender, a one-legged man, 
pressed me to tarry till he could summon the 
Methodist, minister, who had charged him to no- 
tify him of the approach of a paper canoe. 

Through all my boat journeys I have remarked 
that professional men take more interest in canoe 
journeys than professional oarsmen; and nearly 
all the canoeists of my acquaintance are minis- 
ters of the gospel. It is an innocent way of ob- 
taining relaxation; and opportunities thus offered 
the weary clergyman of studying nature in her 
ever-changing but always restful moods, must 
indeed be grateful after being for months in daily 
contact with the world, the flesh, and the devil. 
The tendency of the present age to liberal ideas 
permits clergymen in large towns and cities to 
drive fast horses, and spend an hour of each day 
at a harmless game of billiards, without giving 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 89 

rise to remarks from his own congregation, but 
let the overworked rector of a country village 
seek in his friendly canoe that relief which nature 
offers to the tired brain, let him go into the wil- 
derness and live close to his Creator by studying 
his works, and a whole community vex him on 
his return with " the appearance of the thing." 
These self-constituted critics, who are generally 
igrnorant of the laws which God has made to se- 
cure health and give contentment to his creatures, 
would poison the sick man's body with drugs and 
nostrums when he mig^ht have the delis^htful and 
generally successful services of Dr. Camp Cure 
without the after dose of a bill. These hard- 
worked and miserably paid country clergymen, 
who are rarely, nowada3'S, treated as the head 
of the congregation or the shepherd of the flock 
they are supposed to lead, but rather as victims 
of the whims of influential members of the 
church, tell me that to own a canoe is indeed a 
cross, and that if they spend a vacation in the 
grand old forests of the Adirondacks, the breth- 
ren are sorely exercised over the time wasted in 
such unusual and unministerial conduct. 

Everywhere along the route the peculiar char- 
acter of the paper canoe attracted many remarks 
from the bystanders. The first impression given 
was that I had engaged in this rowing enterprise 
under the stimulus of a bet; and when the cu- 
rious were informed that it was a voyage of 



90 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

study, the next question was, "How much are you 
going to make out of it?" Upon learning that 
there w^as neither a bet nor money in it, a shade 
of disappointment and incredulity rested upon 
the features of the bystanders, and the canoeist 
was often rated as a " blockhead " for risking his 
life without being paid for it. 

At Trenton the canal passes through the city, 
and here it was necessary to carry the boat 
around two locks. At noon the canoe ended 
her voyage of forty-two miles by reaching the 
last lock, on the Delaware River, at Bordentown, 
New Jersey, where friendly arms received the 
Maria Theresa and placed her on the trestles 
which had supported her sister craft, the Mayeta, 
in the shop of the builder, Mr. J. S. Lamson, 
situated under the high cliffs along the crests of 
which an ex-king of Spain, in times gone by, 
was wont to walk and sadly ponder on his exile 
from la belle France. 

The Rev. John H. Brakeley, proprietor as well 
as principal of the Bordentown Female Sem- 
inary, took me to his ancient mansion, where 
Thomas Paine, of old Revolutionary war times, 
had lodged. Not the least attraction in the 
home of my friend was the group of fifty young 
ladies, who were kind enough to gather upon a 
high bluff when I left the town, and wave a 
graceful farewell to the paper canoe as she en- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 9 1 

tered the tidal current of the river Delaware en 
route for the Quaker city. 

During my short stay in Bordentown Mr. 
Isaac Gabel kindly acted as my guide, and we 
explored the Bonaparte Park, which is on the 
outskirts of the town. The grounds are beauti- 
fully laid out. Some of the old houses of the 
ex-king's friends and attendants still remain in a 
fair state of preservation. The elegant residence 
of Joseph Bonaparte, or the Count de Surveil- 
liers, which was always open to American vis- 
itors of all classes, was torn down by Mr. Henry 
Beckett, an Englishman in the diplomatic ser- 
vice of the British government, who purchased 
this property some years after the Count returned 
to Europe, and erected a more elaborate man- 
sion near the old site. The old citizens of Bor- 
dentown hold in grateful remembrance the fa- 
vors showered upon them by Joseph Bonaparte 
and his famil}^, who seem to have lived a dem- 
ocratic life in the grand old park. The Count 
returned to France in 1838, and never visited 
the United States again. New Jersey had wel- 
comed the exiled monarch, and had given him 
certain legal privileges in property rights which 
New York had refused him; so he settled upon 
the lovely shores of the fair Delaware, and lav- 
ished his wealth upon the people of the state 
which had so kindly received him. The citizens 
of neighboring states becoming somewhat jeal- 



92 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

ous of the good luck that had befallen New Jer- 
sey in her capture of the Spanish king, applied 
to the state the cognomen of " New Spain," 
and called the inhabitants thereof " Spaniards." 

The Delaware River, the Makeriskitton of the 
savage, upon whose noble waters my paper 
canoe was now to carry me southward, has its 
sources in the western declivity of the Catskill 
Mountains, in the state of New York. It is fed 
by two tributary streams, the Oquago (or Co- 
quago) and the Popacton, which unite their 
waters at the boundary line of Pennsylvania, at 
the northeast end of the state, from which it 
flows southward seventy miles, separating the 
Empire and Keystone states. When near Port 
Jervis, which town is connected with Rondout, 
on the Hudson River, by the Hudson and Del- 
aware Canal, the Delaware turns sharply to the 
southwest, and becomes the boundary line be- 
tween the states of New Jersey and Pennsyl- 
vania. Below Easton the river again takes a 
southeasterly course, and flowing past Trenton, 
Bristol, Bordentown, Burlington, Philadelphia, 
Camden, Newcastle, and Delaware City, empties 
its waters into Delaware Bay about forty miles 
below Philadelphia. 

This river has about the same length as the 
Hudson — three hundred miles. The tide 
reaches one hundred and thirty-two miles from 
the sea at Cape May and Cape Henlopen. Phil- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 93 

adelphia is the head of navigation for vessels of 
the heaviest tonnage; Trenton for light-draught 
steamboats. At Bordentown the river is less 
than half a mile w^ide; at Philadelphia it is 
three-fourths of a mile in width; while at Del- 
aware City it widens to two miles and a half. 
Delaware Ba}' is twenty-six miles across in the 
widest part, which is some miles within the 
entrance of the Capes. 

October 31st was cool and gusty. The river 
route to Philadelphia is twenty-nine statute miles. 
The passage was made against a strong head- wind, 
with swashy waves, which made me again regret 
that I did not have my canoe-decking made at 
Troy, instead of at Philadelphia. The highly- 
cultivated farms and beautiful country-seats along 
both the Pennsylvania and New Jersey sides 
of the river spoke highly of the rich character 
of the soil and the thrift of the inhabitants. 
These river counties of two states may be called 
a land of plenty, blessed with bountiful har- 
vests. 

Quaker industry and wise economy in man- 
aging the agricultural affairs of this section in 
the early epochs of our country's settlement 
have borne good fruit. All praise to the mem- 
ory of William Penn of Pennsylvania and his 
worthy descendants. The old towns of Bris- 
tol on the right, and Burlington on the left 



94 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

bank, embowered in vernal shades, have a most 
comfortable and home-like appearance. 

At five o'clock p. m. I arrived at the city pier 
opposite the warehouse of Messrs. C. P. Knight 
& Brother, No. 114 South Delaware Avenue, 
where, after a struggle with wind and wave for 
eight hours, the canoe w^as landed and deposited 
with the above firm, the gentlemen of which 
kindly offered to care for it while I tarried in 
the " City of Brotherly Love." 

Among the many interesting spots hallowed 
by memories of the past in which Philadelphia 
abounds, and which are rarely sought out by 
visitors, two especially claim the attention of 
the naturalist. One is the old home of Wil- 
liam Bartram, on the banks of the Schuylkill at 
Grey's Ferry; the other, the grave of Alexander 
Wilson, friends and co-laborers in nature's ex- 
tended field; — the first a botanist, the second the 
father of American ornithology. 

William Bartram, son of the John Bartram 
who was the founder of the Botanic Garden on 
the west bank of the Schuylkill, was born at 
that interesting spot in 1739. All botanists are 
familiar with the results of his patient labors and 
his pioneer travels in those early days, through 
the wilderness of what now constitutes the 
southeastern states. One who visited him at his 
home says: "Arrived at the botanist's garden, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 95 

we approached an old man who, with a rake in 
his hand, was breaking the clods of earth in a 
tulip-bed. His hat was old, and flapped over 
his face; his coarse shirt was seen near his neck, 
as he wore no cravat nor kerchief; his waistcoat 
and breeches were both of leather, and his shoes 
were tied with leather strings. We approached 
and accosted him. He ceased his work, and 
entered into conversation with the ease and 
politeness of nature's nobleman. His coun- 
tenance was expressive of benignity and happi- 
ness. This was the botanist, traveller and phi- 
losopher we had come to see." 

William Bartram gave important assistance 
and encouragement to the friendless Scotch ped- 
agogue, Alexander Wilson, while the latter was 
preparing his American Ornithology for the 
press. This industrious and peaceable botanist 
died within the walls of his dearly-loved home 
a few minutes after he had penned a description 
of a plant. He died in 1823, in the eighty-fifth 
year of his age. The old house of John and 
William Bartram remains nearly the same as 
when the last Bartram died, but the grounds 
have been occupied and improved by the present 
proprietor, whose fine mansion is near the old 
residence of the two botanists. 

Without ample funds to enable him to carry 
out his bold design, Alexander Wilson labored 



^6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

and suffered in body and mind for several years, 
until his patient and persistent efforts achieved 
the success the}^ so richly merited. All but the 
last volume of his American Ornithology were 
completed when the overworked naturalist died. 

The old Swedes' Church is the most ancient 
religious edifice in Philadelphia, and is located 
near the wharves in the vicinity of Christian and 
Swanson streets, in the old district of South- 
wark. The Swedes had settlements on the Del- 
aware before Penn visited America. They built 
a wooden edifice for worship in 1677, on the 
spot where the brick " Swedes' Church " now 
stands, and which was erected in 1700. Thread- 
ing narrow streets, with the stenographic re- 
porter of the courts, Mr. R. A. West, for my 
guide, we came into a quiet locality where the 
ancient landmark reared its steeple, like the fin- 
ger of faith pointing heavenward. Few indeed 
must be the fashionable Christians who worship 
under its unpretentious roof, but there is an air 
of antiquity surrounding it which interests every 
visitor who enters its venerable doorway. 

The church-yard is very contracted in area, 
yet there is room for trees to grow within its 
sacred precincts, and birds sometimes rest there 
while pursuing their flight from the Schuylkill 
to the Delaware. Among the crowded graves 
is a square brick structure, covered with an hor- 
izontal slab of white marble, upon which I read: 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 97 

"this monument covers the remains of 

ALEXANDER WILSON, 

AUTHOR OF THE AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 

HE WAS BORN IN RENFREWSHIRE, SCOTLAND, ON THE 6 JULY, 1 766; 

EMIGRATED TO THE UNITED STATES IN THE YEAR 1 794 ; 

AND DIED IN PHILADELPHIA, OF THE DYSENTERY, 

ON THE 23 AUGUST, 1813, AGED 47. 

Ingenio stat sine 7norte deciis." 

Philadelphia has been called the " city of 
homes," and well does she merit that comforta- 
bly sounding title, for it is not a misnomer. 
Unlike some other large American cities, the 
artisan and laborer can here own a home by 
becoming a member of a building association 
and paying the moderate periodical dues. Miles 
upon miles of these cosy little houses, of five or 
six rooms each, may be found, the inmates of 
which are a good and useful class of citizens, 
adding strength to the city's discipline and gov- 
ernment. 

The grand park of three thousand acres, one 
of, if not the largest in the world, is near at 
hand, where the poor as well as the rich can 
resort at pleasure. I took leave of the beautiful 
and well laid-out city with a pang of regret not 
usual with canoeists, who find it best for their 
comfort and peace of mind to keep with their 
dainty crafts away from the heterogeneous and 
not over-civil population which gathers along 
the water-fronts of a port. 

7 



98 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER VII. 

PHILADELPHIA TO CAPE HENLOPEN. 

DESCENT OF DELAWARE RIVER. — MY FIRST CAMP. — BOMBAY 
HOOK. — MURDERKILL CREEK. — A STORM IN DELAWARE BAY. — 
CAPSIZING OF THE CANOE. — A SWIM FOR LIFE. — THE PER- 
SIMMON GROVE. — WILLOW GROVE INN. — THE LIGHTS OF 
CAPES MAY AND HENLOPEN. 

MONDAY, November 9, was a cold, wet 
day. Mr. Knight and the old, enthusi- 
astic gunsmith-naturalist of the city, Mr. John 
Krider, assisted me to embark in my now 
decked, provisioned, and loaded canoe. The 
stock of condensed food would easily last me a 
month, while the blankets and other parts of the 
outfit were good for the hard usage of four or 
five months. My friends shouted adieu as the 
little craft shot out from the pier and rapidly 
descended the river with the strong ebb-tide 
which for two hours was in her favor. The 
anchorage of the iron Monitor fleet at League 
Island was soon passed, and the great city sank 
into the gloom of its smoke and the clouds of 
rainy mist which enveloped it. 

This pull was an exceedingly dreary one. The 
storms of winter were at hand, and even along 




Copyrijjht.. 2878. !.y lee. i ihepa.-d 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 99 

the watercourses between Philadelphia and Nor- 
folk, Virginia, thin ice would soon be forming in 
the shallow coves and creeks. It would be 
necessar}^ to exert all my energies to get south 
of Hatteras, which is located on the North Car- 
olina coast in a region of storms and local dis- 
turbances. The canoe, though heavily laden, 
behaved well. I now enjoyed the advantages 
resulting from the possession of the new canvas 
deck-cover, which, being fastened by buttons 
along each gunwale of the canoe, securely cov- 
ered the boat, so that the occasional swash sent 
aboard by wicked tug-boats and large schooners 
did not annoy me or wet my precious cargo. 

By two o'clock p. m. the rain and wind caused 
me to seek shelter at Mr. J. C. Beach's cottage, 
at Markus Hook, some twenty miles below 
Philadelphia, and on the same side of the river. 
While Mr. Beach was varnishing the little craft, 
crowds of people came X.o feel of the canoe, giv- 
ing it the usual punching with their finger-nails, 
" to see if it were truly paper." A young Meth- 
odist minister with his pretty wife came also to 
satisfy their curiosity on the -paper question, but 
the dominie offered me not a word of encourao-e- 
ment in my undertaking. He shook his head 
and whispered to his wife: "A wild, wild enter- 
prise indeed." Markus Hook derived its name 
from Markee, an Indian chief, who sold it to the 
civilized white man for four barrels of whiskey. 



lOO VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

The next morning, in a dense fog, I followed 
the shores of the river, crossing the Pennsylvania 
and Delaware boundary line half a mile below 
the "Hook," and entered Delaware, the little state 
of three counties. Thirty-five miles below, the 
water becomes salt. Reaching New Castle, 
which contained half its present number of 
inhabitants before Philadelphia was founded, I 
pulled across to the New Jersey side of the river 
and skirted the marshy shore past the little Pea 
Patch Island, upon which rises in sullen dreari- 
ness Fort Delaware. West of the island is 
Delaware City, where the Chesapeake and Del- 
aware Canal, fourteen miles in length, has one 
of its termini, the other being on a river which 
empties into Chesapeake Bay. Philadelphia and 
Baltimore steamboat lines utilize this canal in 
the passage of their boats from one city to the 
other. 

After crossing Salem Cove, and passing its 
southern point, Elsinborough, five miles and a 
half below Fort Delaware, the inhospitable 
marshes became wide and desolate, warning me 
to secure a timely shelter for the night. Nearly 
two miles below Point Elsinborough the high 
reeds were divided by a little creek, into which I 
ran my canoe, for upon the muddy bank could be 
seen a deserted, doorless fish-cabin, into which I 
moved my blankets and provisions, after cutting 
with my pocket-knife an ample supply of dry 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. lOI 

reeds for a bed. Drift-wood, which a friendly 
tide had deposited around the shanty, furnished 
the material for my fire, which lighted up the 
dismal hovel most cheerfully. And thus I kept 
house in a comfortable manner till morning, 
being well satisfied with the progress I had 
made that day in traversing the shores of three 
states. The booming of the guns of wild-fowl 
shooters out upon the water roused me before 
dawn, and I had ample time before the sun arose 
to prepare breakfast from the remnant of canned 
ox-tail soup left over from last night's supper. 

I was now in Delaware Bay, which was assum- 
ing noble proportions. From my camp I crossed 
to the west shore below Reedy Island, and, filling 
ray water-bottles at a farm-house, kept upon that 
shore all day. The wind arose, stirring up a 
rough sea as I approached Bombay Hook, where 
the bay is eight miles wide. I tried to land upon 
the salt marshes, over the edges of which the 
long, low seas were breaking, but failed in sev- 
eral attempts. At last roller after roller, follow- 
ing in quick succession, carried the little craft on 
their crests to the land, and packed her in a 
thicket of high reeds. 

I quickly disembarked, believing it useless to 
attempt to go further that day. About an eighth 
of a mile from the water, rising out of the salt 
grass and reeds, was a little mound, covered by 
trees and bushes, into which I conveyed my 



I02 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

cargo by the back-load, and then easily drew the 
light canoe over the level marsh to the camp. 
A bed of reeds was soon cut, into which the 
canoe was settled to prevent her from being 
strained by the occupant at night, for I was de- 
termined to test the strength of the boat as sleep- 
ing-quarters. Canoes built for one person are 
generally too light for such occupancy when out 
of water. The tall fringe of reeds which encir- 
cled the boat formed an excellent substitute for 
chamber walls, giving me all the starry blue 
heavens for a ceiling, and most effectually screen- 
ing me from the strong wind which was blowing. 
As it was early when the boat was driven ashore, 
I had time to wander down to the brook, which 
was a mile distant, and replenish my scanty stock 
of water. 

With the canvas deck-cover and rubber blan- 
ket to keep off the heavy dews, the first night 
passed in such contracted lodgings was endurable, 
if not wholly convenient and agreeable. The 
river mists were not dispelled the next day until 
nine o'clock, when I quitted my warm nest in 
the reeds and rowed down the bay, which seemed 
to grow broader as I advanced. The bay was 
still bordered by extensive marshes, with here 
and there the habitation of man located upon 
some slight elevation of the surface. Having 
rowed twenty-six miles, and being off the mouth 
of Murderkill Creek, a squall struck the canoe and 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I03 

forced it on to an oyster reef, upon the sharp 
shells of which she was rocked for several min- 
utes by the shallow breakers. Fearing that the 
paper shell was badly cut, though it was still 
early in the afternoon, I ascended the creek of 
ominous name and associations to the landing of 
an inn kept by Jacob Lavey, where I expected to 
overhaul my injured craft. To my surprise and 
great relief of mind there were found only a few 
superficial scratches upon the horn-like shel- 
lacked surface of the paper shell. To apply 
shellac with a heated iron to the wounds made 
by the oyster-shells was the work of a few min- 
utes, and my craft was as sound as ever. The 
gunner's resort, " Bower's Beach Hotel," fur- 
nished an excellent supper of oyster fritters, pan- 
fish, and fried pork-scrapple. Mine host, before 
a blazing wood fire, told me of the origin of the 
name of Murderkill Creek. 

" In the early settlement of the country," be- 
gan the innkeeper, " the white settlers did all 
they could to civilize the Indians, but the cussed 
savages wouldn't take to it kindly, but worried 
the life out of the new-comers. At last a gfreat 
landed proprietor, who held a big grant of land 
in these parts, thought he'd settle the troubles. 
So he planted a brass cannon near the creek, 
and invited all the Indians of the neighborhood 
to come and hear the white man's Great Spirit 
talk. The crafty man got the savages before the 



I04 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

mouth of the cannon, and said, ' Now look into 
the hole there, for it is the mouth of the white 
man's Great Spirit, which will soon speak in tones 
of thunder.' The fellow then touched off the 
gun, and knocked half the devils into splinters. 
The others were so skeerd at the big voice they 
had heard that they were afraid to move, and 
were soon all killed by one charge after another 
from the cannon: so the creek has been called 
Murderkill ever since." 

I afterwards discovered that there were other 
places on the coast which had the same legend 
as the one told me by the innkeeper. Holders 
of small farms lived in the vicinity of this tavern, 
but the post-office was at Frederica, five miles 
inland. Embarking the next day, I felt sure of 
ending my cruise on Delaware Bay before night, 
as the quiet morning exhibited no signs of rising 
winds. The little pilot town of Lewes, near 
Cape Delaware, and behind the Breakwater, is a 
port of refuge for storm-bound vessels. From 
this village I expected to make a portage of six 
miles to Love Creek, a tributary of Rehoboth 
Sound. The frosty nights were now exerting a 
sanitary influence over the malarial- districts 
which I had entered, and the unacclimated ca- 
noeist of northern birth could safely pursue his 
journey, and sleep at night in the swamps along 
the fresh-water streams if protected from the 
dews by a rubber or canvas covering. My hopes 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I05 

of reaching the open sea that night were to be 
drowned, and in cold water too; for that day, 
which opened so cahnly and with such smiling 
promises, was destined to prove a season of trial, 
and before its evening shadows closed around 
me, to witness a severe struggle for life in the 
cold waters of Delaware Bay. 

An hour after leaving Murderkill Creek the 
wind came from the north in strong squalls. 
My little boat taking the blasts on her quarter, 
kept herself free of the swashy seas hour after 
hour. I kept as close to the sandy beach of the 
great marshes as possible, so as to be near the 
land in case an accident should happen. Mis- 
pillion Creek and a light-house on the north of 
its mouth were passed, when the wind and seas 
struck my boat on the port beam, and continually 
crowded her ashore. The water breaking on 
the hard, sandy beach of the marshy coast made 
it too much of a risk to attempt a landing, as the 
canoe would be smothered in the swashy seas if 
her headway was checked for a moment. Amid- 
ships the canoe was only a few inches out of 
water, but her great sheer, full bow, and smooth- 
ness of hull, with watchful management, kept her 
from swamping. I had struggled along for 
fourteen miles since morning, and was fatigued 
by the strain consequent upon the continued ma- 
noeuvring of my boat through the rough waves. 
I reached a point on Slaughter Beach, where the 



Io6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

bay has a width of nearly nineteen miles, when 
the tempest rose to such a pitch that the great 
raging seas threatened every moment to wash 
over my canoe, and to force me by their violence 
close into the beach. To my alarm, as the boat 
rose and fell on the waves, the heads of sharp- 
pointed stakes appeared and disappeared in the 
broken waters. They were the stakes of fisher- 
men to which they attach their nets in the season 
of trout-fishing. The danger of being impaled 
on one of these forced me oft' shore again. 

There was no undertow; the seas being driven 
over shoals were irregular and broken. At \a.st my 
sea came. It rolled up without a crest, square 
and formidable. I could not calculate where it 
would break, but I pulled for life away from it 
towards the beach upon which the sea was 
breaking with deafening sound. It was only for 
a moment that I beheld the great brown wave, 
which bore with it the mud of the shoal, bearing 
down upon me; for the next, it broke astern, 
sweeping completely over the canoe from stern 
to stem, filling it through the opening of the 
canvas round my body. Then for a while the 
watery area was almost smooth, so completely 
had the ffreat wave levelled it. The canoe be- 
ing water-logged, settled below the surface, 
the high points of the ends occasionally emer- 
ofinof from the water. Other heavy seas followed 
the first, one of which striking me as high as my 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I07 

head and shoulders, turned both the canoe and 
canoeist upside-down. 

Kicking myself free of the canvas deck, I 
struck out from under the shell, and quickly- 
rose to the surface. It was then that the words 
of an author of a European Canoe Manual came 
to my mind: " When you capsize, first right the 
canoe and get astride it over one end, keeping 
your legs in the water; when you have crawled 
to the well or cockpit, bale out the boat with 
your hat." Comforting as these instructions 
from an experienced canoe traveller seemed 
when reading them in my hermitage ashore, the 
present application of them (so important a 
principle in Captain Jack Bunsby's log of life) 
was in this emergency an impossibility; for my 
hat had disappeared with the seat-cushion and 
one iron outrigger, while the oars were floating 
to leeward with the canoe. 

The boat having turned keel up, her great 
sheer would have righted her had it not been for 
the cargo, which settled itself on the canvas 
deck-cloth, and ballasted the craft in that posi- 
tion. So smooth were her polished sides that it 
was impossible to hold on to her, for she rolled 
about like a slippery porpoise in a tideway. 
Having tested and proved futile the kind sug- 
gestions of writers on marine disasters, and feel- 
ing very stilT in the icy water, I struck out in an 
almost exhausted condition for the shore. Now 



Io8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

a new experience taught me an interesting les- 
son. The seas rolled over my head and shoul- 
ders in such rapid succession, that I found I 
could not get my head above water to breathe, 
while the sharp sand kept in suspension by the 
agitated water scratched my face, and filled my 
eyes, nostrils, and ears. While I felt this press- 
ing down and burying tendency of the seas, as 
they broke upon my head and shoulders, I un- 
derstood the reason why so many good swim- 
mers are drowned in attempting to reach the 
shore from a wreck on a shoal, when the wind, 
though blowing heavily, is in the victim's favor. 
The land was not over an eighth of a mile away, 
and from it came the sullen roar of the breakers, 
pounding their heavy weight upon the sandy 
shingle. As its booming thunders or its angry, 
swashing sound increased, I knew I was rapidly 
nearing it, but, blinded by the boiling waters, I 
could see nothing. 

At such a moment do not stop to make vows 
as to how you will treat your neighbor in future 
if once safely landed, but strike out, fight as you 
never fought before, swallowing as little water 
as possible, and never relaxing an energy or 
yielding a hope. The water shoaled; my feet 
felt the bottom, and I stood up, but a roller laid 
me flat on my face. Up again and down again, 
swimming and crawling, I emerged from the 
sea, bearing, I fear, a closer resemblance to Jo- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I09 

nah (being at last pitched on shore) than to 
Cabnel's Venus, who was borne gracefully upon 
the rosy crests of the sky-reflecting waves to 
the soft bed of sparkling foam awaiting her. 

Wearily dragging myself up the hard shingle, 
I stood and contemplated the little streams of 
water pouring from my woollen clothes. A new 
danger awaited me as the cold wind whistled 
down the barren beach and across the desolate 
marshes. I danced about to keep warm, and for 
a moment thought that my canoe voyage had 
come to an unfortunate termination. Then a 
buoyant feeling succeeded the moment's de- 
pression, and I felt that this was only the first 
,of many trials which were necessary to prepare 
me for the successful completion of my under- 
taking. But where was the canoe, with its pro- 
visions that were to sustain me, and the charts 
which w^ere to point out my way through the 
labyrinth of waters she was yet to traverse? 
She had drifted near the shore, but would not 
land. There was no time to consider the pro- 
priety of again entering the water. The struggle 
was a short though severe one, and I dragged 
my boat ashore. 

Everything was wet excepting what was most 
needed, — a flannel suit, carefully rolled in a 
water-proof cloth. I knew that I must change 
my wet clothes for dry ones, or perish. This 
was no easy task to perform, with hands be- 



no VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

numbed and limbs paralyzed with the cold. O 
shade of Benjamin Franklin, did not one of thy 
kinsmen, in his wide experience as a traveller, 
foresee this very disaster, and did he not, when 
I left the " City of Brotherly Love," force upon 
me an antidote, a sort of spiritual fire, which my 
New England temperance principles made me 
refuse to accept? " It is old, very old," he whis- 
pered, as he slipped the flask into my coat-pock- 
et, " and it may save your life. Don't be foolish. 
I have kept it w^ell bottled. It is a pure article, 
and cost sixteen dollars per gallon. I use it only 
Joj' medicine^ I found the flask; the water 
had not injured it. A small quantity was taken, 
when a most favorable change came over my 
entire system, mental as well as physical, and I 
was able to throw off one suit and put on an- 
other in the icy wind, that might, without the 
stimulant, have ended my voyage of life. 

I had doctored myself homceopathically under 
the old practice. Filled with feelings of grat- 
itude to the Great Giver of good, I reflected, as 
I carried my wet cargo into the marsh, upon the 
wonderful effects of my friend's medicine when 
taken only as medicine. Standing upon the cold 
beach and gazing into the sea, now lashed by 
the wild frenzy of the wind, I determined never 
again to do so mean a thing as to say a bad 
word against good brandy. 

Having relieved my conscience by this just 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. Ill 

resolvcj I transported the whole of my wet but 
still precious cargo to a persimmon grove, on 
a spot of firm land that rose out of the marsh, 
where I made a convenient wind-break by 
stretching rubber blankets between trees. On 
this knoll I built a fire, obtaining the matches 
to kindle it from a water-proof safe presented to 
me by Mr. Epes Sargent, of Boston, some years 
before, when I was ascending the St. Johns 
River, Florida. 

Before dusk, all things not spoiled by the 
water were dried and secreted in the tall sedge 
of the marshes. The elevation which had given 
me friendly shelter is known as " Hog Island." 
The few persimmon-trees that grew upon it fur- 
nished an ample lunch, for the frosts had mel- 
lowed the plum-like fruit, making it sweet and 
edible. The persimmon (^Diospyi'us Virgini- 
and) is a small tree usually found in the middle 
and southern states. Coons and other animals 
feast upon its fruit. The deepening gloom 
warned me to seek comfortable quarters for the 
night. 

Two miles up the strand was an old gunners' 
inn, to which I bent my steps along Slaughter 
Beach, praying that one more day's effort would 
take me out of this bleak region of ominous 
names. A pleasant old gentleman, Mr. Charles 
Todd, kept the tavern, known as Willow Grove 
Hotel, more for amusement than for profit. I 



112 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

said nothing to him about the peculiar manner 
in which I had landed on Slaughter Beach; but 
to his inquiry as to where my boat was, and 
what kind of a boat it was to live in such a 
blow, I replied that I found it too wet and cold 
on the bay to remain there, and too rough to 
proceed to Cape Henlopen, and there being no 
alternative, I was obliged to land much against 
my inclination, and in doing so was drenched to 
the skin, but had managed to get dry before a 
fire in the marshes. So the kind old man piled 
small logs in the great kitchen fireplace, and 
told me tale upon tale of his life as a school- 
master out west; of the death of his wife there, 
and of his desire to return, after long years of 
absence, to his native Delaware, where he could 
be comfortable, and have all the clams, oysters, 
fish, and bay truck generally that a man could 
wish for. 

" Now," he added, " I shall spend my last 
days here in peace." He furnished an excellent 
supper of weak-fish or sea trout ( Otolithus re- 
galio), fried oysters, sweet potatoes, &c. 

This locality offers a place of retirement for 
men of small means and limited ambition. The 
broad bay is a good sailing and fishing ground, 
while the great marshes are the resort of many 
birds. The light, warm soil responds generously 
to little cultivation. After a day of hunting and 
fishing, the new-comer can smoke his pipe in 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. II3 

peace, to the music of crackling flames in the 
wide old fireplace. Here he may be comfoi't- 
able, and spend his last days quietly vegetating, 
with no criticisms on his deterioration, knowing 
that he is running to seed no faster than his 
neighbors. 

The wind had gone to rest with the sun, and 
the sharp frost that followed left its congealed 
breath upon the shallow pools of water nearly 
half an inch in thickness by morning. From 
my bed I could see through the window the 
bright flashes from Cape May and Cape Hen- 
lopen lights. Had not misfortune beset me, a 
four-hours' pull would have landed me at Lewes. 
There was much to be thankful for, however. 
Through a merciful Providence it was my priv- 
ilege to enjoy a soft bed at the Willow Grove 
Inn, and not a cold one on the sands of Slaugh- 
ter Beach. So ended my last day on Delaware 
Bay. 



114 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

FROM CAPE HENLOPEN TO NORFOLK, VIRGINIA. 

THE PORTAGE TO LOVE CREEK. — THE DELAWARE WHIPPING- 
POST. — REHOBOTH AND INDIAN RIVER BAYS. — A PORTAGE 
TO LITTLE ASSAWAMAN BAY. — ISLE OF WIGHT BAY. — WIN- 
CHESTER PLANTATION. — CHINCOTEAGUE. — WATCHAPREAGUE 
INLET. — COBB'S ISLAND. — CHERRYSTONE. — ARRIVAL AT NOR- 
FOLK. — THE "landmark's" ENTERPRISE. 



M 



Y first thought the next morning was of the 
lost outrigger, and how I should replace 
it. My host soon solved the problem for me. 
I was to drive to the scene of the late disaster in 
his light, covered wagon, load it with the canoe 
and cargo, and take the shortest route to Love 
Creek, six miles from Lewes, stopping on the 
way at a blacksmith's for a new outrigger. 
We drove over sandy roads, through forests of 
pine and oak, to the village of Milton, where a 
curious crowd gathered round us and facetiously 
asked if we had " brought the canoe all the way 
from Troy in that 'ere wagon." The village 
smith, without removing the paper boat from her 
snug quarters, made a fair outrigger in an hour's 
time, when we continued our monotonous ride 



liotue of'Paper-Oxrioe 
MARIA THERESA 
Fr^om Lewes, Del.to Nbrihlk , Va 
Followed hy N.H.Bishop 

in 1874t 




Copyright. 1878, iyLec i. SheparA 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. II5 

through dreary woods to a clearing upon the 
banks of a cedar swamp, where in a cottage 
lived Mr. George Webb, to whom Bob Hazzle, 
my driver, presented me. Having now reached 
Love Creek, I deposited my canoe with Mr. 
Webb, and started off for Lewes to view the 
town and the ocean. 

Across the entrance of Delaware Bay, from 
Cape Henlopen Light to Cape May Light on the 
southern end of New Jersey, is a distance of 
twelve statute miles. Saturday night and Sun- 
day were passed in Lewes, which is situated 
inside of Cape Henlopen, and behind the cel- 
ebrated stone breakwater which was constructed 
by the government. This port of refuge is much 
frequented by coasters, as many as two or three 
hundred sails collecting here during a severe 
gale. The government is building a reinarka- 
ble pier oi solid iron spiles, three abreast, which, 
when completed, will run out seventeen hun- 
dred feet into the bay, and reach a depth of 
twenty-three feet of water. Captain Brown, of 
the Engineers, was in charge of the work. By the 
application of a jet of water, forced by an hydrau- 
lic pump through a tube down the outside of 
the spile while it is being screwed into the sand, 
a puddling of the same is kept up, which re- 
lieves the strain upon the screw-flanges, and 
saves fourteen-fifteenths of the time and labor 
usually expended by the old method of inserting 



Il6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the screw spile. This invention was a happy 
thought of Captain Brown. 

The government has purchased a piece of land 
at Lewes for the site of a fort. Some time in the 
future there will be a railroad terminating on the 
pier, and coal will be brought directly from the 
mines to supply the fleets which will gather with- 
in the walls of the Breakwater. Here, free from 
all danger of an ice blockade, this port will be- 
come a safe and convenient harbor and coaling-- 
station during the winter time for government 
and other vessels. 

At dusk on Sunday evening the collector of 
the port, Captain Lyons, and his friends, took 
me in their carriage back to Love Creek, where 
Mr. Webb insisted upon making me the recipi- 
ent of his hospitality for the night. A little 
crowd of women from the vicinity of the swamp 
were awaiting my arrival to see the canoe. One 
ancient dame, catching sight of the alcohol-stove 
which I took from iny vest-pocket, clapped her 
thin hands and enthusiastically exclaimed, "What 
a nice thing for a sick-room — the best nuss-lamp 
I ever seed! " Having satisfied the curiosity of 
these people, and been much amused by their 
quaint remarks, I was quietly smuggled into Mr. 
Webb's " best room," where, if my spirit did not 
make feathery flights, it was not the fault of the 
downy bed in whose unfathomable depths I now 
lost myself. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. II7 

Before leaving Delaware I feel it an impera- 
tive duty to the public to refer to one of her 
time-honored institutions. 

Persons unacquainted with the fact will find 
it difficult to believe that one state of the great 
American Republic still holds to the practice of 
lashing men and women, white and black. Del- 
aware — one of the smallest states of the Union, 
the citizens of which are proverbially generous 
and hospitable, a state which has produced a 
Bayard — is, to her shame we regret to say, the 
culprit which sins against the spirit of civilization 
in this nineteenth century, one hundred years 
after the fathers of the Republic declared equal 
rights for all men. In treating of so delicate a 
subject, I desire to do no one injustice; therefore 
I will let a native of Delaware speak for his 
community. 

" Dover, Delaware, August 2, 1873. 
"Editor Camden Spy: According to prom- 
ise, I now write you a little about Delaware. 
Persons in your vicinity look upon the ^ Little 
Diamond State' as a mere bog, or marsh, and 
mud and water they suppose are its chief pro- 
ductions ; but, in my opinion, it is one of the 
finest little states in the Union. Although small, 
in proportion to the size it produces more grain 
and fruit than any other state in the country, and 
they are unexcelled as regards quality and flavor. 



Il8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Crime is kept in awe by that best of institutions, 
the luhipping-post and pillory ! These are the 
bugbear of all the northern newspapers, and 
they can say nothing too harsh or severe against 
them. The whipping-post in Kent County is 
situated in the yard of the jail, and is about six 
feet in height and three feet in circumference ; the 
prisoner is fastened to it by means of bracelets, 
or arms, on the wrist; and the sheriff executes 
the sentence of the law by baring the convict to 
the waist, and on the bare back lashing him 
twenty, forty, or sixty times, according to the 
sentence. But the blood does not run in streams 
from the prisoner's back, nor is he thrown into a 
barrel of brine, and salt sprinkled over the lashes. 
On the contrary, I have seen them laugh, and 
coolly remark that ' it's good exercise, and gives 
us an appetite.' But there are others who raise 
the devil's own row with their yells and horrible 
cries of pain. The whipping is public, and is 
witnessed each time by large numbers of people 
who come from miles around to see the culprit 
disgraced. 

"A public whipping occurred not very long 
ago, and the day was very stormy, yet there 
were fully three hundred spectators on the ground 
to witness this wholesome punishment! A per- 
son who has been lashed at the whipping-post 
cannot vote again in this state; thus, most of the 
criminals who are whipped leave the state in 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. II9 

order to regain their citizenship. The newspapers 
can blow until they are tired about this ^ horrible, 
barbaric, and unchristian punishment,' but if their 
own states would adopt this form of punishment, 
they would find crime continually on the de- 
crease. What is imprisonment for a few months 
or years? It is soon over with; and then they 
are again let out upon the community, to beg, 
borrow, and steal. But to be publicly whipped 
is an everlasting disgrace, and deters men from 
committing wrong. Women are whipped in the 
same manner, and they take it very hard; but, to 
my recollection, there has not been a female 
prisoner for some time. I did not intend to com- 
ment so long upon the whipping-posts in the 
state of Delaware. 

" The pillory next claims our attention. This 
is a, long piece of board that runs through the 
whipping-post at the top, and has holes [as per 
engraving] for the neck and arms to rest in a 
very constrained position. The prisoner is com- 
pelled to stand on his toes for an hour with his 
neck and arms in the holes, and if he sinks from 
exhaustion, as it sometimes happens, the neck is 
instantly broken. Josiah Ward, the villain who 
escaped punishment for the murder of the man 
Wady in your county, came into Delaware, 
broke into a shoe-store, succeeded in stealing one 
pair of shoes, — was arrested, got sixty lashes at 
the post, was made to stand in the pillory one 



I20 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

hour, is now serving out a term of two years' 
imprisonment, — and he never got the shoes! 
The pillory is certainly a terrible and cruel pun- 
ishment, and, while I heartily favor the whipping- 
post, I think this savage punishment should be 
abolished. 

" Since writing the above, I have heard that a 
colored woman was convicted of murder in the 
second degree last May, and on Saturday the 
17th of that month received sixty lashes on her 
bare back, and stood in the pillory one hour. 

" What do you think of Delaware law, after 
what I have written? I have written enough 
for the present, so I will close, ever remaining, 
" Yours very truly, P P " 

For twenty years past, Delaware and Mary- 
land farmers have given much attention to peach 
culture, which has gradually declined in New 
Jersey and states further north. There are said 
to be over sixty thousand acres of land on the 
peninsula planted with peach-trees, which are 
estimated to be worth fifty dollars per acre, or 
three million dollars. To harvest this crop re- 
quires at least twenty-five thousand men, women, 
and children. The planting of an acre of peach- 
trees, and its cultivation to maturity, costs from 
thirty to forty dollars. The canners take a large 
portion of the best peaches, which are shipped 
to foreign as well as to domestic markets. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 121 

The low lands and river-shores of the penin- 
sula exhale malaria which attacks the inhabitants 
in a mild form of ague. During the spring, 
summer, and early fall months, a prudent man 
will not expose himself to the air until after 
the sun has risen and dispelled the mists of 
morning. The same caution should be observed 
all through the low regions of the south, both 
as to morning and evening exercise. Chills and 
fever are the bane of the southern and middle 
states, as this disease affects the health and 
elastic vigor of the constitution, and also pro- 
duces great mental depression. Yet those who 
suffer, even on every alternate day, from chills, 
seem to accept the malaria as nothing of much 
importance; though it is a well-known fact that 
this form of intermittent fever so reduces the 
strength, that the system is unable to cope with 
other and more dangerous diseases for which it 
paves the way. 

Upon a little creek, tributary to St. Martin's 
River, and near its confluence with the Isle of 
Wight Bay, a long day's pull from the swamp of 
Love Creek, was the old plantation home of a 
friend of my boyhood, Mr. Taylor, who about 
this time was looking out for the arrival of the 
paper canoe. It was a question whether I could 
descend Love Creek three miles, cross Rehoboth 
and Indian River sounds, ascend White's Creek, 
make a portage to Little Assawaman Bay, thread 



122 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the thoroughfare west of Fenwick's Island Light, 
cross the Isle of Wight Bay, ascend and cross St. 
Martin's River to Turval's Creek, and reach the 
home of my friend, all in one day. But I deter- 
mined to attempt the task. Mr. Webb roused his 
family at an 'early hour, and I rowed down Love 
Creek and crossed the shallow waters of Reho- 
both Bay in the early part of the day. 

From Cape Henlopen, following the general 
contour of the coast, to Cape Charles at the 
northern entrance of Chesapeake Bay, is a dis- 
tance of one hundred and thirty-six miles; from 
Cape Charles across the mouth of Chesapeake 
Bay to Cape Henry is thirteen miles; from 
Henlopen south, the state of Delaware occupies 
about twenty miles of the coast; the eastern 
shore of Maryland holds between thirty and 
forty miles, while the eastern shore of Virginia, 
represented by the counties of Accomac and 
Northampton, covers the peninsula to Cape 
Charles. 

Commencing at Rehoboth Bay, a small boat 
may follow the interior waters to the Chesapeake 
Bay. The watercourses of this coast are pro- 
tected from the rough waves of the ocean by 
long, narrow, sandy islands, known as beaches, 
between which the tides enter. These passages 
from the sea to the interior waters are called 
inlets, and most of them are navigable for coast- 
ing vessels of light draught. These inlets are so 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 23 

influenced by the action of storms, and their 
shores and locations are so changed by them, 
that the cattle may graze to-day in tranquil happi- 
ness where only a generation ago the old skipper 
navigated his craft. During June of the year 
1 82 1 a fierce gale opened Sandy Point Inlet with 
a foot depth of water, but it closed in 1831. 
Green Point Inlet was cut through the beach 
during a gale in 1837, and was closed up seven 
years later. Old Sinepuxent Inlet, which was 
forced open by the sea more than sixty years 
ago, closed in 1831. These three inlets were 
within a space of three miles, and were all north 
of Chincoteague village. Green Run Inlet, 
which had a depth of about six feet of water for 
nearly ten years, also closed after shifting half a 
mile to the south of its original location. The 
tendency of inlets on this coast is to shift to the 
southward, as do the inlets on the coast of New 
Jersey. 

Oystermen, fishermen, and farmers live along 
the upland, and in some cases on the island 
beaches. From these bays, timber, firewood, 
grain, and oysters are shipped to northern ports. 
The people are everywhere kind and hospitable 
to strangers. A mild climate, cheap and easily 
worked soils, wild-fowl shooting, fine oysters and 
fishing privileges, offer inducements to North- 
erners and Europeans to settle in this country; 
the mild form of ague which exists in most 



124 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

of its localities being the only objection. While 
debating this point with a native, he attacked my 
argument by saying: 

"Law sakes! don't folks die of something, 
any way? If you don't have fever 'n' ague round 
Massachusetts, you've got an awful lot of things 
we hain't got here — a tarnashun sight wuss ones, 
too; sich as cumsempsun, brown-critters, mental 
spinageetis, lung-disease, and all sorts of brown- 
kill disorders. Besides, you have such awful 
cold winters that a farmer has to stay holed four 
months out of the year, while we folks in the 
south can work most of the time out of doors. 
I'll be dog-goned if I hadn't ruther live here in 
poverty than die up north a-rolling in riches. 
Now, stranger, as to what you said about sick- 
ness, why we aren't no circumstance to you fel- 
lows up north. Why, yoviX hull country is chuck- 
full of pizenous remedies. When I was a-coast- 
ing along Yankeedom and went ashore, I found 
all the rocks along the road were jist kivered 
with quack-medicine notices, and all the farmers 
hired out the outsides of their barns to advertise 
doctor's stuff on." 

In no portion of America do the people seem 
to feel the burden of earning a livelihood more 
lightly. They get a great deal of social enjoy- 
ment out of life at very little cost, and place 
much less value on the " mighty dollar " than do 
their brother farmers of the northern section of 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 25 

the states. The interesting inquiry of "Who was 
his father? " commences at Philadelphia, and its 
importance intensifies as you travel southward. 
Old family associations have great weight among 
all classes. 

It was six miles from the mouth of Love Creek 
across the little sound to Burton's marshy island 
at the entrance of Indian River Sound. Indian 
River supplies its bay with much of its fresh 
water, and the small inlet in the beach of the 
same name with the salt water of the ocean. 
Large flocks of geese and ducks were seen upon 
the quiet waters of the sound. Pursuing my 
southward course across Indian River Sound 
three miles, I entered a small creek with a wide 
mouth, which flows north from the cedar swamp, 
known as White's Creek, which I ascended until 
the stream became so narrow that it seemed 
almost lost in the wilderness, when suddenly 
an opening in the forest showed me a clearing 
with the little buildings of a farm scattered 
around. It was the home of a Methodist ex- 
horter, Mr. Silas J. Betts. I told him how anx- 
ious I was to make a quick portage to the 
nearest southern water, Little Assawaman Ba}'', 
not much more than three miles distant by road. 

After calmly examining my boat, he said: "It 
is now half-past eleven o'clock. Wife has dinner 
about ready. I'll hurry her up a little, and while 
she is putting it on the table we will get the cart 



126 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

ready." The cart was soon loaded with pine 
needles as a bed for the canoe. We lashed her 
into a firm position with cords, and went in to 
dinner. 

In a short time after, we were rattling over a 
level, wooded country diversified here and there 
by a little farm. The shallow bay, the east side 
of which was separated from the ocean by sandy 
hills, was bounded by marshes. We drove close 
to the water and put the Maria Theresa once 
more into her true element. A friendly shake 
of the hand as I paid the conscientious man his 
charge of one dollar for his services, with many 
thanks for his hospitality, for which he would 
accept nothing — and the canoe was off, threading 
the narrow and very shallow channel-way of this 
grassy-bottomed bay. 

The tall tower of Fenwick's Island Light, 
located on the boundary line of Delaware and 
Maryland, was now my landmark. It rises out 
of the low land that forms a barrier against 
which the sea breaks. The people on the coast 
pronounce Fenwick "Phoenix." Phcenix Island, 
they say, was once a part of the mainland, but a 
woman, wishing to keep her cattle from stray- 
ing, gave a man a shirt for digging a narrow 
ditch between Little and Great Assawaman 
bays. The tide ebbed and flowed so strongly 
through this new channel-way that it was worn 
to more than a hundred feet in width, and has 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 27 

at high tide a depth in places of from ten to fif- 
teen feet of water. The opening of this new 
thoroughfare so diminished the flow of water 
through the Little Assawaman Inlet to the sea, 
that it became closed. The water was almost 
fresh here, as the nearest inlet which admits salt 
water at high tide is at Chincoteague Island, 
some fifty miles distant. 

Passing to the west of the light-house through 
this passage, I thought of what a woman could 
do, and almost expected to hear from the rippling 
waters the "Song of the Shirt," which would 
have been in this case a much more cheerful 
one than Hood's. I now entered Great Assa- 
waman Bay, the waters of which lay like a mir- 
ror before me; and nearly five miles away, to the 
southwestern end, the tall forests of the Isle of 
Wight loomed up against the setting sun. Ducks 
rose in flocks from the quiet waters as my canoe 
glided into their close vicinity. If I could have 
taken less cargo, I should have carried a light 
gun; but this being impossible, a pocket re- 
volver was my only fire-arm: so the ducks and 
other wild-fowl along my route had reason to 
hold the paper canoe in grateful remembrance. 

Upon reaching the shores of the Isle of Wight 
I entered the mouth of St. Martin's River, which 
is, at its confluence with Isle of Wight Bay, more 
than two miles wide. I did not then possess the 
fine Coast Chart No. 28, or the General Chart 



128 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

of the Coast, No. 4, with the topography of the 
land clearly delineated, and showing every man's 
farm-buildings, fields, landings, &c., so plainly 
located as to make it easy for even a novice to 
navigate these bays. Now, being chartless so 
far as these waters were concerned, I peered 
about in the deepening twilight for my friend's 
plantation buildings, which I knew were not far 
off; but the gloomy forests of pine upon the up- 
land opened not the desired vista I so longed 
to find. 

Crossing the wide river, I came upon a long 
point of salt-marsh, which I hoped might be 
Keyser's Point, for I knew that to the west of 
this point I should find Turval's Creek. While 
rowing along the marsh I came upon two duck- 
shooters in their punt, but so enveloped were 
they in the mist that it was impossible to do 
more than define their forms. I, however, ven- 
tured a question as to m}^ locality, when, to my 
utter astonishment, there came back to me in 
clear accents my own name. Never before had 
it sounded so sweet to my ears. It was the 
voice of my friend, who with a companion 
was occupied in removing from the water the 
flock of decoys which they had been guard- 
ing since sunrise. Joyful was the unexpected 
meeting. 

We rowed around Keyser's Point, and up Tur- 
val's Creek, a couple of miles to the plantation 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 29 

landing. Here, upon the old estate in the little 
family burial-ground, slept, " each in his narrow 
cell," the children of four generations. Our con- 
versation before the blazing wood-fire that night 
related to the ground travelled over during the day, 
a course of about thirty-five miles. Mr. Taylor's 
father mentioned that a friend, during one week 
in the previous September, had taken upon his 
hook, while fishing from the marshes of Reho- 
both Bay, five hundred rock-fish, some of which 
weighed twenty pounds. The oysters in Reho- 
both and Indian River bays had died out, 
probably from the decrease in the amount of 
salt water now entering them. A delightful 
week was spent with my friends at Winchester 
Plantation, when the falling of the mercury 
warned me to hurry southward. 

On Wednesday, November 25, I descended 
the plantation creek and rowed out of St. Mar- 
tin's River into the Bay. My course southward 
led me past "the Hommack," an Indian mound 
of oyster-shells, which rises about seven feet 
above the marsh on the west side of the entrance 
to Sinepuxent bay, and where the mainland 
approaches to within eight hundred feet of the 
beach. This point, which divides the Isle of 
Wight Bay from Sinepuxent, is the terminus of 
the Wicomico and Pocomoke Railroad, which 
has been extended from Berlin eastwardl}^ seven 
miles. A short ferry conveys the passengers 

9 



130 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

across the water to a narrow island beach, which 
is considered by Bayard Taylor, the author, the 
finest beach he has ever visited. This new 
watering-place is called Ocean City; and my 
friend, B. Jones Taylor, was treasurer of the 
company which was engaged in making the 
much-desired improvements. The shallow bays 
in the vicinity of Ocean City offer safe and pleas- 
ant sailing-grounds. The summer fishing con- 
sists chiefly of white perch, striped bass, sheep's- 
head, weak-fish, and drum. In the fall, bluefish 
are caught. All of these, with oysters, soft 
crabs, and diamond-backed terrapin, offe? tempt- 
ing dishes to the epicure. This recently isolated 
shore is now within direct railroad communica- 
tion with Philadelphia and New York, and can 
be reached in nine hours from the former, and 
in twelve hours from the latter city. 

From the Hommack to South Point is included 
the length of Sinepuxent Bay, according to Coast 
Survey authority. From South Point to below 
the middle of Chincoteague Island the bay is 
put down as "Assateague," though the oystermen 
do not call it by that name. The celebrated 
oyster-beds of the people of Chincoteague com- 
mence about twenty miles south of the Hom- 
mack. There are two kinds of oysters shipped 
from Chincoteague Inlet to New York and 
other markets. One is the long native plant ; 
the other, that transplanted from Chesapeake 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I3I 

Bay: this bivalve is rounded in form, and the 
most prized of the two. The average width of 
Sinepuxent was only a mile. When I turned 
westwardly around South Point, and entered 
Assateague Bay, the watery expanse widened, 
between the marshes on the west and the sandy- 
beach island on the east, to over four miles. 

The debouchure of Newport Creek is to the 
west of South Point. The marshes here are 
very wide. I ascended it in the afternoon to 
visit Dr. F. J. Purnell, whose attempts to intro- 
duce the pinnated grouse and California par- 
tridges on his plantation had attracted the atten- 
tion of Mr. Charles Hallock, editor of " Forest 
and Stream"; and I had promised him, if possi- 
ble, to investigate the matter. This South Point 
of Sinepuxent Neck is a place of historical in- 
terest, it being now asserted that it is the burial- 
place of Edward Whalley, the regicide. 

Early in 1875, Mr. Robert P. Robins found in a 
bundle of old family documents a paper containing 
interesting statements written by his great-great- 
grandfather, Thomas Robins, 3d, of South Point, 
Worcester County, Maryland, and dated July 8, 
1769. We gather from this reliable source that 
Edward Whalley left Connecticut and arrived in 
Virginia in 1618, and was there met by a portion 
of his family. From Virginia he travelled to 
the " province of Maryland, and settled first at 
ye mouth of ye Pokemoke River; and finding 



132 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

yt too publick a place he came to Sinepuxent, a 
neck of land open to ye Atlantic Ocean, where 
Colonel Stephen was surveying and bought a 
tract of land from him and called it Genezar; it 
contained two thousand two hundred acres, south 
end of Sinepuxent; and made a settlement on ye 
southern extremity, and called it South Point; to 
ye which place he brought his family about 1687, 
in ye name of Edward Middleton. His own name 
he made not publick until after this date, after ye 
revolution in England, (in ye year of our Lord 
1688,) when he let his name be seen in publick 
papers, and had ye lands patented in his own 
name." 

The writer of the above quotation was the 
great-grandson of Edward Whalley (alias Edward 
Middleton), the celebrated regicide. 

Four miles from South Point I struck the 
marshes which skirted Dr. Purnell's large plan- 
tation, and pushing the canoe up a narrow branch 
of the creek, I waded through the partially sub- 
merged herbage to the firm ground, where the 
doctor was awaiting me. His house was close 
at hand, within the hospitable walls of which I 
passed the night. Dr. Purnell has an estate of 
one thousand five hundred acres, lying along the 
banks of Newport Creek. Since the civil war it 
has been worked by tenants. Much of it is 
woodland and salt-marshes. Five years before 
my visit, a Philadelphian sent the doctor a few 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 33 

pairs of prairie-chickens, and a covey of both the 
valley and the mountain partridge. I am now 
using popular terms. The grouse were from a 
western state; the partridges had been obtained 
from California. The partridges were kept caged 
for seyeral weeks and were then set at liberty. 
They soon disappeared in the woods, with the 
exception of a single pair, which returned daily 
to the kitchen-door of a farm tenant to obtain 
food. These two birds nested in the garden 
close to the house, and reared a fine brood of 
young; but the whole covey wandered away, and 
were afterwards heard from but once. They 
had crossed to the opposite side of Newport 
Creek, and were probably shot by gunners. 

The prairie-chickens adapted themselves to 
their new home in a satisfactory manner, and 
became very tame. Their nests, well filled with 
eggs, were found along the rail-fences of the fields 
in the close vicinity of the marshes, for which 
level tracts they seemed to have strong attach- 
ment. They multiplied rapidly, and visited the 
cattle-pens and barn-3^ards of the plantation. 

The Maryland legislature passed a law to pro- 
tect all grouse introduced into the state; but a 
new danger threatened these unfortunate birds. 
A crew of New Jersey terrapin-hunters entered 
Chincoteague Inlet, and searched the ditches and 
little creeks of the salt-marshes for the " diamond- 
backs." While thus eno^ao^ed, the orentle s:rouse. 



134 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

feeding quietly in the vicinity, attracted their 
attention, and they at once bagged most of them. 
A tenant on the estate informed me that he had 
seen eighteen birds in a cornfield a few days be- 
fore — the remnant of the stock. 

The Ruffled Grouse {^Bonasa umbelhts), so 
abundant in New Jersey, is not a resident of the 
peninsula. Dr. Purnell's first experiment with 
the Pinnated Grouse ( Cupidonia cupido) has 
encouraged others to bring the ruffled grouse to 
the eastern shore of Maryland. That unapproach- 
able songster of the south, the American Mock- 
ing-bird (^Mimus polyglotttts), is becoming 
scarce in this region, from the inroads made by 
bird-catchers who ship the young to northern 
cities. This delightful chorister is only an acci- 
dental visitor in the New England states. In- 
deed, as far south as Ocean County, New Jersey, 
I saw but one of these birds, in a residence of 
nine years on my cranberry plantations; though I 
have heard that their nests are occasionally found 
about Cape May, at the extreme southern end of 
New Jersey. 

My time being limited, I could enjoy the doc- 
tor's hospitality for but one night. The next 
morning the whole family, with tenants both 
black and white, assisted me to embark. By 
dusk I had crossed the division line of two states, 
and had entered Virginia near the head of Chin- 
coteague Island, a locality of peculiar interest to 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 35 

the student of American character. The ebb- 
tide had left but little water around the rough pier 
abreast of the town, and heaps of oyster-shells 
rose from the mud flats and threatened the 
safety of my canoe. I looked up through the 
darkness to the light pier-head above me, and 
called for assistance. Two men leaned over to 
inquire, "What's the row now, stranger?" To 
which I replied, " I wish to land a light boat on 
your pier; and as it is made of paper, it should 
be carefully handled." For a moment the oys- 
termen observed a silence, and then, without one 
word of explanation, disappeared. I heard their 
heavy boots tramping up the quay towards the 
tavern. Soon a low murmur arose on the night 
air, then hoarse shouts, and there came thunder- 
ing down the wharf an army of men and boys. 
"Pass her up, stranger!" they cried. "Here, 
give us your bow and starn painters, and jest 
step overboard yourself, and we'll hist her up." 
Some of the motley crew caught me by the 
shoulders, others " histed away," and the canoe 
and its captain were laid roughly upon the 
ground. 

There was a rush to feel of the paper shell. 
Many were convinced that there was no humbug 
about it; so, 'with a great shout, some of the men 
tossed it upon their shoulders, while the rest 
seized upon the miscellaneous cargo, and a rush 
was made for the hotel, leaving me to follow at 



136 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

discretion and alone. The procession burst open 
the doors of the tavern, and poured through 
the entrance to a court-yard, where they laid 
the boat upon a long table under a shed, and 
thought they had earned " drinks." This was the 
spontaneous way in which the Chincoteague peo- 
ple welcomed me. " If you don't drink, stranger, 
up your way, what on airth keeps your buddies 
and soulds together? " queried a tall oysterman. 
A lady had kindly presented me with a peck of fine 
apples that very morning; so, in lieu of" drinks," 
I distributed the fruit among them. They joked 
and questioned me, and all were merry save one 
bilious-looking individual, not dressed, like the 
others, in an oysterman's garb, but wearing, to 
use a term of the place, " store clothes." 

After the crowd had settled in the bar-room, 
at cards, &c., this doubting Thomas remained 
beside the boat, carefully examining her. Soon 
he was scraping her hull below the gunwale, 
where the muddy water of the bay had left a 
thin coat of sediment which was now dry. The 
man's countenance lighted up as he pulled the 
bartender aside and said, "Look ahere; didn't 
I tell you that boat looked as if she was made to 
carry on a deck of a vessel, and to be a-shoved off 
into the water at night jest abreast of a town to 
make fools of folks, and git them to believe that 
that fellow had a-rowed all the way ahere? 
Now see, here is dust, dry dust, on her hull. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I37 

She ahain't ben in the water mor'n ten minutes, 
I sware." It required but a moment's investiga- 
tion of my Chincoteague audience to discover 
that the dust was mud from the tide, and the 
doubter brought down the ridicule of his more 
discriminating neighbors upon him, and slunk 
away amid their jeers. 

Of all this community of watermen but one 
could be found that night who had threaded the 
interior watercourses as far as Cape Charles, and 
he was the youngest of the lot. Taking out my 
note-book, I jotted down his amusing directions. 
" Look out for Cat Creek below Four Mouths," 
he said; "you'll catch it round there." "Yes," 
broke in several voices, "Cat Creek's an awful 
place unless you run through on a full ebb-tide. 
Oyster boats always has a time a-shoving through 
Cat Creek," &c. 

After the council with my Chincoteague 
friends had ended, the route to be travelled the 
next day was in my mental vision " as clear as 
mud." The inhabitants of this island are not all 
oystermen, for many find occupation and profit 
in raising ponies upon the beach of Assateague, 
where the wild, coarse grass furnishes them a 
livelihood. These hardy little animals are called 
" Marsh Tackles," and are found at intervals 
along the beaches down to the sea-islands of the 
Carolinas. They hold at Chincoteague an annual 
fair, to which all the " pony-penners," as they 



138 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

are called, bring their surplus animals to sell. 
The average price is about ninety dollars for a 
good beast, though some have sold for two hun- 
dred and fifty dollars. All these horses are sold 
in a semi-wild and unbroken state. 

The following morning Mr. J. L. Caulk, ex- 
collector of the oyster port, and about fifty per- 
sons, escorted me to the landing, and sent me 
away with a hearty " Good luck to ye." 

It was three miles and three quarters to the 
southern end of the island, which has an inlet 
from the ocean upon each side of that end — the 
northern one being Assateague, the southern one 
Chincoteague Inlet. Fortunately, I crossed the 
latter in smooth water to Ballast Narrows in 
the marshes, and soon reached Four Mouths, 
where I found Jive mouths of thoroughfares, and 
became perplexed, for had not the pilots of 
Chincoteague called this interesting display of 
mouths " Four Mouths"? I clung to the authority 
of local knowledge, however, and was soon in a 
labyrinth of creeks which ended in the marshes 
near the beach. 

Returning over the course, I once more faced 
the four, or Jive mouths rather, and taking a new 
departure by entering the next mouth to the one 
I had so unsatisfactorily explored, soon entered 
Rogue's Bay, across which could be seen the 
entrance to Cat Creek, where I was to expe- 
rience the difficulties predicted by my Chinco- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 39 

teap-ue friends. Cat Creek furnished at half tide 
sufficient water for my canoe, and not the slight- 
est difficulty was experienced in getting through 
it. The oystermen had in their minds their own 
sloop-rigged oyster-boats when they discoursed 
to me about the hard passage of Cat Creek. 
They had not considered the fact that my craft 
drew only five inches of water. 

Cat Creek took me quite down to the beach, 
where, through an inlet, the dark-blue ocean, 
sparkling in its white caps, came pleasantly into 
view. Another inlet was to be crossed, and 
again I was favored with smooth water. This 
was Assawaman Inlet, which divided the beach 
into two islands — Wallops on the north, and 
Assawaman on the south. 

It seemed a singular fact that the two Assa- 
waman bays are forty-five miles to the north of an 
inlet of the same name. In following the creeks 
through the marshes between Assawaman Island 
and the mainland, I crossed another shoal bay, 
and another inlet opened in the beach, through 
which the ocean was again seen. This last was 
Gargathy Inlet. Before reaching it, as night was 
coming on, I turned up a thoroughfare and rowed 
some distance to the mainland, where I found 
lodgings with a hospitable farmer, Mr. Martin R. 
Kelly. At daybreak I crossed Gargathy Inlet. 

It was now Saturday, November 28; and being 
encouraged by the successful crossing of the in- 



140 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

lets in my tiny craft, I pushed on to try the less 
inviting one at the end of Matomkin Island. 
Fine weather favored me, and I pushed across 
the strong tide that swept through this inlet 
without shipping a sea. Assawaman and Gar- 
gathy are constantly shifting their channels. At 
times there will be six feet of water, and again 
they will shoal to two feet. Matomkin, also, is 
not to be relied on. Every northeaster will shift 
a buoy placed in the channels of these three in- 
lets, so they are not buoyed. 

Watchapreague Inlet, to the south of the three 
last named, is less changeable in character, and 
is also a much more dangerous inlet to cross in 
rough weather. From Matomkin Inlet the inte- 
rior thoroughfares were followed inside of Cedar 
Island, when darkness forced me to seek shelter 
with Captain William F. Burton, whose comfort- 
able home was on the shore of the mainland, 
about five miles from Watchapreague Inlet. 
Here I was kindly invited to spend Sunday. 
Captain Burton told me much of interest, and 
among other things mentioned the fact that dur- 
ing one August, a few years before my visit, a 
large lobster was taken on a fish-hook in Watch- 
apreague Inlet, and that a smaller one was cap- 
tured in the same manner during the summer 
of 1874. 

Monday was a gusty day. My canoe scraped 
its keel upon the shoals as I dodged the broken 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I4I 

oyster reefs, called here " oyster rocks," while on 
the passage down to Watchapreague Inlet. The 
tide was very low, but the water deepened as 
the beach was approached. A northeaster was 
blowing freshly, and I was looking for a lee 
under the beach, when suddenly the canoe shot 
around a sandy point, and was tugging for life in 
the rough waters of the inlet. The tide was run- 
ning in from the sea with the force of a rapid, 
and the short, quick puffs of wind tossed the 
waves wildly. It was juseless to attempt to turn 
the canoe back to the beach in such rough water, 
but, intent on keeping the boat above the caps, I 
gave her all the momentum that muscular power 
could exert, as she was headed for the southern 
point of the beach, across the dangerous inlet. 

Though it was only half a mile across, the 
passage of Watchapreague taxed me severely. 
Waves washed over my canoe, but the gallant 
little craft after each rebuff rose like a bird to 
the surface of the water, answering the slightest 
touch of my oar better than the best-trained 
steed. After entering the south-side swash, the 
wind struck me on the back, and seas came tum- 
bling over and around the boat, fairly forcing me 
on to the beach. As we flew along, the tumult- 
uous waters made my head swim; so, to pre- 
vent mental confusion, I kept my eyes only upon 
the oars, which, strange to say, never betrayed 
me into a false stroke. 



142 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

As a heavy blast beat down the raging sea for 
a moment, I looked over my shoulder and be- 
held the low, sandy dunes of the southern shore 
of the inlet close at hand, and with a severe jolt 
the canoe grounded high on the strand. I 
leaped out and drew my precious craft away 
from the tide, breathing a prayer of thankfulness 
for my escape from danger, and mentally vowing 
that the canoe should cross all other treacherous 
inlets in a fisherman's sloop. I went into camp 
in a hollow of the beach, where the sand-hills 
protected me from the piercing wind. All that 
afternoon I watched from my burrow in the 
ground the raging of the elements, and towards 
evening was pleased to note a general subsidence 
of wind and sea. 

The canoe was again put into the water and 
the thoroughfare followed southward for a mile 
or two, when the short day ended, leaving me 
beside a marshy island, which was fringed with 
an oyster-bed of sharp-beaked bivalves. Step- 
ping overboard in the mud and water, the oars 
and paddle were laid upon the shell reef to pro- 
tect the canoe, which was dragged on to the 
marsh. It grew colder as the wind died out. 
The marsh was wet, and no fire-wood could be 
found. The canvas cover was removed, the cargo 
was piled up on a platform of oars and shells to 
secure it from the next tide, and then I slowly 
and laboriously packed myself away in the nar- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 43 

row shell for the night. The canvas deck-cover 
was buttoned in its place, a rubber blanket cov- 
ered the cockpit, and I tried to sleep and dream 
that I was not a sardine, nor securely confined in 
some inhospitable vault. It was impossible to 
turn over without unbuttoning one side of the 
deck-cover and going through contortions that 
would have done credit to a first-class acrobat. 
For the first time in my life I found it necessary 
to get Old of bed in order to turn over in it. 

At midnight, mallards {Anas boschas) came 
close to the marsh. The soft ivhagh of the 
drake, which is not in this species blessed with 
the loud quack of the female bird, sufficiently 
established the identity of the duck. Then 
muskrats, and the oyster-eating coon, came 
round, no doubt scenting my provisions. Brisk 
raps from my knuckles on the inside shell of the 
canoe astonished these animals and aroused their 
curiosity, for they annoyed me until daybreak. 

When I emerged from my narrow bed, the 
frosty air struck my cheeks, and the cold, wet 
marsh chilled my feet. It was the delay at 
Watchapreague Inlet that had lodged me on this 
inhospitable marsh; so, trying to exercise my 
poor stock of patience, I completed my toilet, 
shaking in my wet shoes. The icy water, into 
which I stepped ankle-deep in order to launch 
my canoe, reminded me that this wintry morning 
was in fact the first day of December, and that 



144 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

stormy Hatteras, south of which was to be found 
a milder climate, was still a long way off. 

The brisk row along Paramore's Island (called 
Palmer's by the natives) to the wide, bay-like 
entrance of Little Machipongo Inlet, restored 
warmth to my benumbed limbs. This wide 
doorway of the ocean permitted me to cross its 
west portal in peace, for the day was calm. 
From Little to Great Machipongo Inlet the 
beach is called Hog Island. The inside thor- 
oughfare is bounded on the west by Rogue's 
Island, out of the flats of which rose a solitary 
house. At the southern end of Hog Island 
there is a small store on a creek, and near the 
beach a light-house, while a little inland is lo- 
cated, within a forest of pines, a small settle- 
ment. 

At noon. Great Machipongo Inlet was crossed 
without danger, and Cobb's Island was skirted 
several miles to Sand Shoal Inlet, near which 
the hotel of the three Cobb brothers rose 
cheerfully out of the dreary waste of sands and 
marshes. The father of the present proprietors 
came to this island more than thirty years ago, 
and took possession of this domain, which had 
been thrown up by the action of the ocean's 
waves. He refused an offer of one hundred 
thousand dollars for the island. The locality is 
one of the best on this coast for wild-fowl shoot- 
ing. Sand Shoal Inlet, at the southern end of 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 45 

Cobb's Island, has a depth of twelve feet of 
water on its bar at low tide. 

In company with the regular row-boat ferry I 
crossed, the next day, the broad bay to the main- 
land eight miles distant, where the canoe was 
put upon a cart and taken across the peninsula 
five miles to Cherrystone, the only point near 
Cape Charles at which a Norfolk steamer stopped 
for passengers. It was fully forty miles across 
Chesapeake Bay from Cherrystone Landing to 
Norfolk, and it was imperative to make the port- 
age from this place instead of from Cape Charles, 
which, though more than fifteen miles further 
south, and nearer to my starting-point on the 
other side, did not possess facilities for transpor- 
tation. The slow one-horse conveyance arrived 
at Cherrystone half an hour after the steamer 
N. P. Banks had left the landing, though I 
heard that the kind-hearted captain, being told 
I was coming, waited and whistled for me till 
his patience was exhausted. 

The onl}^ house at the head of the pier was 
owned by Mr. J. P. Powers, and fortunately 
offered hotel accommodations. Here I remained 
until the next trip of the boat, December 4. Ar- 
riving in Norfolk at dusk of the same day, I 
stored my canoe in the warehouse of the Old 
Dominion Steamship Company, and quietly re- 
tired to a hotel which promised an early meal 
in the morning, congratulating myself the while 
10 



146 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

that I had avoided the usual show of curiosity 
tendered to canoeists at city piers, and above all 
had escaped the inevitable reporter. Alas! my 
thankfulness came too soon; for when about to 
retire, my name was called, and a veritable 
reporter from the Norfolk Landmark cut off 
my retreat. 

" Only a few words," he pleadingly whis- 
pered. "I've been hunting for you all over the 
city since seven o'clock, and it is near midnight 
now." 

He gently took my arm and politely furnished 
me with a chair. Then placing his own directly 
before me, he insinuatingly worked upon me 
until he derived a knowledge of the log of the 
Paper Canoe, when leaning back in his chair he 
leisurely surveyed me and exclaimed: 

" Mr. Bishop, you are a man of snap. We 
like men of snap; we admire men of snap; 
in fact, I may say we cotton to men of snap, and 
I am proud to make your acquaintance. Now 
if you will stop over a day we will have the 
whole city out to see your boat." 

This hind offer I firmly refused, and we were 
about to part, when he said in a softly rebuking 
manner: 

" You thought, Mr. Bishop, 3'ou would give us 
the slip — did you not? I assure you that would 
be quite impossible. Eternal Vigilance is our 
motto. No, you could not escape us. Good 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



147 



evening, sir, and the ^ Landmark's ' welcome to 
you." 

Six hours later, as I entered the restaurant of 
the hotel with my eyes half open, a newsboy 
bawled out in the darkness: "'Ere's the ^Land- 
mark.' Full account of the Paper Canoe," &c. 
And before the sun was up I had read a column 
and a half of " The Arrival of the Solitary Voy- 
ager in Norfolk." So much for the zeal of Mr. 
Perkins of the " Landmark," a worthy example 
of American newspaper enterprise. Dreading 
further attentions, I now prepared to beat a hasty 
retreat from the city. 




PELAWARE )VhIPPING-J='OST AND PiLLORY 



148 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER IX. 

FROM NORFOLK TO CAPE HATTERAS. 

THE ELIZABETH RIVER. — THE CANAL. — NORTH LANDING RIVER. 
— CURRITUCK SOUND. — ROANOKE ISLAND. — VISIT TO BODY 
ISLAND LIGHT-HOUSE. — A ROMANCE OF HISTORY. — PAMPLICO 
SOUND. — THE PAPER CANOE ARRIVES AT CAPE HATTERAS. 

ON Saturday morning, December 5, I left the 
pier of the Old Dominion Steamship Com- 
pany, at Norfolk, Virginia, and, rowing across the 
water towards Portsmouth, commenced ascend- 
ing Elizabeth River, which is here wide and 
affected by tidal change. The old navy yard, 
with its dismantled hulks lying at anchor in the 
stream, occupies both banks of the river. About 
six miles from Norfolk the entrance to the Dis- 
mal Swamp Canal is reached, on the left bank 
of the river. This old canal runs through the 
Great Dismal Swamp, and affords passage for 
steamers and light-draught vessels to Elizabeth 
City, on the Pasquotank River, which empties 
into Albemarle Sound to the southward. The 
great cypress and juniper timber is penetrated by 
this canal, and schooners are towed into the 



3^ 



:r^ 




limit,- „r/',,i„l-(.ilnf,- 

MARIA TH ER E S A 

From Xoji'ol k ,la.to Iin<jiie Inlet ,^.( 

Followed bvMIf.Bishop 

in 7,974 




J^ (^ Chx&amijcoTnjico 

'Z^LongSlwal Ft, 






^ GuU ISi 



^^] 



. 6 



-,' 







^Ciipe Hatter (ts 
Ha tte fas Inlet 




Co-pynglit 1313. by Lcc J S'i-^a^ird 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 49 

swamp to landings where their cargoes are de- 
livered. 

In the interior of the Dismal Swamp is Drum- 
mond's Lake, named after its discoverer. It is 
seven miles long by five miles wide, and is the 
feeder of the canal. A branch canal connects it 
with the main canal; and small vessels may 
traverse the lake in search of timber and shingles. 
Voyagers tell me that during heavy gales of 
wind a terrible sea is set in motion upon this 
shoal sheet of water, making it dangerous to 
navigfate. Bears are found in the fastnesses of 
the swamp. The Dismal Swamp Canal was dug 
in the old days of the wheelbarrow and spade. 

The Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal, the en- 
trance to which is sixteen miles from Norfolk, 
on the right or east bank of the Elizabeth River, 
and generally known as the " new canal," was 
commenced about the year 1856, and finished in 
1859. It is eight miles and a half in length, 
and connects the Elizabeth and North Landing 
rivers. This canal was dug by dredging-ma- 
chines. It is kept in a much better state for 
navigation, so far as the depth of water is con- 
cerned, than the old canal, which from inatten- 
tion is gradually shoaling in places; consequently 
the regular steam-packets which ply between 
Elizabeth City and Norfolk, as well as steamers 
whose destinations are further north, have given 
up the use of the Dismal Swamp Canal, and 



150 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

now go round through Albemarle Sound up the 
North River, thence by a six-mile cut into Cur- 
rituck Sound, up North Landing River, and 
throug-h the new canal to the Elizabeth River 
and into Chesapeake Bay. The shores of the 
Elizabeth are low and are fringed by sedgy 
marshes, while forests of second-growth pine 
present a green background to the eye. A few 
miles above Norfolk the cultivation of land 
ceases, and the canoeist traverses a wilderness. 

About noon I arrived at the locks of the Albe- 
marle and Chesapeake Canal. The telegraph 
operator greeted me with the news that the com- 
pany's agent in Norfolk had telegraphed to the 
lock-master to pass the paper canoe through with 
the freedom of the canal — the first honor of the 
kind that had fallen to my lot. The tide rises 
and falls at the locks in the river about three feet 
and a half. When I passed through, the differ- 
ence in the level between the ends of the locks 
did not reach two feet. The old lock-master 
urged me to give up the journey at once, as I 
never could " get through the Sounds with that 
little boat." When I told him I was on my 
second thousand miles of canoe navigation since 
leaving Quebec, he drew a long breath and 
gave a low groan. 

When once through the canal-gates, you are 
in a heavy C3'press swamp. The dredgings 
thrown upon the banks have raised the edge of 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 151 

the swamp to seven feet above the water. Little 
pines grow along these shores, and among them 
the small birds, now on their southern migrations, 
sported and sang. Whenever a steamer or tug- 
boat passed me, it crowded the canoe close to 
the bank; but these vessels travel along the 
canal at so slow a rate, that no trouble is experi- 
enced by the canoeist from the disturbance 
caused by their revolving screws. Freedmen, 
poling flats loaded with shingles or frame stuff, 
roared out their merry songs as they passed. 
The canal entered the North Landing River 
without any lockage; just beyond was North 
Landing, from which the river takes its name. 
A store and evidences of a settlement meet the 
eye at a little distance. The river is tortuous, 
and soon leaves the swamp behind. The pine 
forest is succeeded by marshes on both sides of 
the slow-flowing current. 

Three miles from North Landing a single 
miniature house is seen; then for nearly five 
miles along the river not a trace of the presence 
of man is to be met, until Pungo Ferry and Land- 
ing loom up out of the low marshes on the east 
side of the river. This ferry, with a store three- 
quarters of a mile from the landing, and a farm 
of nearly two hundred acres, is the property of 
Mr. Charles N. Dudley, a southern gentleman, 
who offers every inducement in his power to 
northern men to settle in his vicinity. Many of 



152 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the property-holders in the uplands are willing 
to sell portions of their estates to induce north- 
ern men to come among them. 

It was almost dark when I reached the store- 
house at Pungo Ferry; and as Sunday is a sacred 
day with me, I determined to camp there until 
Monday. A deformed negro held a lease of the 
ferry, and pulled a flat back and forth across 
the river by means of a chain and windlass. He 
was very civil, and placed his quarters at my dis- 
posal until I should be ready to start southward 
to Currituck Sound. We lifted the canoe and 
pushed it through an open window into the little 
store-room, where it rested upon an unoccupied 
counter. The negro went up to the loft above, 
and threw down two large bundles of flags for a 
bed, upon which I spread my blankets. An old 
stove in a corner was soon aglow with burning 
light wood. While I was cooking my supper, 
the little propeller Cygnet, which runs between 
Norfolk and Van Slyck's Landing, at Currituck 
Narrows, touched at Pungo Ferry, and put off 
an old woman who had been on a two years' 
visit to her relatives. She kindly accosted the 
dwarfed black with, " Charles, have you got a 
match for my pipe?" 

"Yes, missus," civilly responded the negro, 
handing her a light. 

" Well, this is good! " soliloquized the ancient 
dame, as she seated herself on a box and puflfed 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 53 

away at the short-stemmed pipe. "Ah, good 
indeed to get away from city folks, with their 
stuck-up manners and queer ways, a-fault-tinding 
when you stick your knife in your mouth in 
place of your fork, and a-feeding you on China 
tea in place of dear old yaupon. Charles, you 
can't reckon how I longs to get a cup of good 
yaupon." 

As the reader is about entering a country 
where the laboring classes draw largely upon 
nature for their supply of " the cup that cheers 
but not inebriates," I will describe the shrub 
which produces it. 

This substitute for the tea of China is a holly 
(ilex), and is called by the natives "yaupon" 
(/. cassine, Linn.). It is a handsome shrub, 
growing a few feet in height, with alternate, per- 
ennial, shining leaves, and bearing small scarlet 
berries. It is found in the vicinity of salt water, 
in the lio:ht soils of Viro^inia and the Carolinas. 
The leaves and twigs are dried by the women, 
and when ready for market are sold at one dollar 
per bushel. It is not to be compared in excel- 
lence with the tea of China, nor does it approach 
in taste or good qualities the well-known yerba- 
inate, another species of holly, which is found 
in Paraguay, and is the common drink of the 
people of South America. 

The old woman having gone on her way, and 
we being again alone in the rude little shanty, 



154 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the good-natured freedman told me his history, 
ending with, — 

" O that was a glorious day for me, 
When Massa Lincoln set me free." 

He had too much ambition, he said, deformed as 
he was, to be supported as a pauper by the pub- 
lic. " I can make just about twelve dollars a 
month by dis here ferry," he exclaimed. " I 
don't want for nuffin'; Fse got no wife — no 
woman will hab me. I want to support myself 
and live an honest man." 

About seven o'clock he left me to waddle up 
the road nearly a mile to a little house. 

" I an' another cullo'd man live in partner- 
ship," he said. He could not account for the 
fact that I had no fear df sleeping alone in the 
shanty on the marshes. He went home for the 
company of his partner, as he " didn't like to 
sleep alone noways." 

Though the cold wind entered through broken 
window-lights and under the rudely constructed 
door, I slept comfortably until morning. Before 
Charles had returned, my breakfast was cooked 
and eaten. 

With the sunshine of the morning came a 
new visitor. I had made the acquaintance of 
the late slave; now I received a call from the 
late master. My visitor was a pleasant, gentle- 
manly personage, the owner of the surrounding 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 55 

acres. His large white house could be seen 
from the landing, a quarter of a mile up the 
road. 

" I learned that a stranger from the north was 
camped here, and was expecting that he would 
come up and take breakfast with me," was his 
kindly way of introducing himself. 

I told him I was comfortably established in 
dry quarters, and did not feel justified in for- 
cing myself upon his hospitality while I had so 
many good things of this life in my provision- 
basket. 

Mr. Dudley would take no excuse, but con- 
ducted me to his house, where I remained that 
day, attending the religious services in a little 
church in the vicinity. My kind host introduced 
me to his neighbors, several of whom returned 
with us to dinner. I found the people about 
Pungo Ferry, like those I had met along the 
sounds of the eastern shore of Maryland and 
Virginia, very piously inclined, — the same kind- 
hearted, hospitable people. 

My host entertained me the next day, which 
was rainy, with his life in the Confederate army, 
in which he served as a lieutenant. He was a 
prisoner at Johnson's Island for twenty-two 
months. He bore no malice towards northern 
men who came south to join with the natives in 
working for the true interests of the country. 
The people of the south had become weary of 



156 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

political sufferings inflicted by a floating popula- 
tion fi"om the north; they needed actual settlers, 
not politicians. This sentiment I found every- 
where expressed. On Tuesday I bade farewell 
to my new friends, and rowed down the North 
Landing River towards Currituck Sound. 

The North Carolina line is only a few miles 
south of the ferry. The river enters the head 
of the sound six or eight miles below Pungo 
Ferry. A stiff northerly breeze was blowing, 
and as the river widened, on reaching the head 
of the sound, to a mile or more, and bays were 
to be crossed from point to point, it required 
the exercise of considerable patience and mus- 
cular exertion to keep the sea from boarding 
the little craft amidship. As I was endeavoring 
to weather a point, the swivel of one of the out- 
riggers parted at its junction with the row-lock, 
and it became necessary to get under the south 
point of the marshes for shelter. 

The lee side offered a smooth bay. It was 
but a few minutes' work to unload and haul the 
canoe into the tall rushes, which afforded ample 
protection against the cold wind. It was three 
hours before the wind went down, when the 
canoe was launched, and, propelled by the double 
paddle, (always kept in reserve against accidents 
to oars and row-locks,) I continued over the 
waters of Currituck Sound. 

Swans could now be seen in flocks of twenties 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I57 

and fifties. They were exceedingly wary, not 
permitting the canoe to approach within rifle 
ransfe. Clouds of ducks, and some Canada 
geese, as well as brant, kept up a continuous 
flutter as they rose from the surface of the water. 
Away to the southeast extended the glimmering 
bosom of the sound, with a few islands relieving 
its monotony. The three or four houses and two 
small storehouses at the landing of Currituck 
Court House, which, with the brick court-house, 
comprise the whole village, are situated on the 
west bank; and opposite, eight miles to the east- 
ward, is the narrow beach island that serves as 
a barrier to the ingress of the ocean. 

At sunset I started the last flock of white 
swans, and grounded in the shoal waters at the 
landinof. There is no res^ular hotel here, but a 
kind lady, Mrs. Simmons, accommodates the 
necessities of the occasional traveller. The ca- 
noe was soon locked up in the landing-house. 
Fortunately a blacksmith was found outside the 
village, who promised to repair the broken row- 
lock early upon the following morning. Before 
a pleasant wood fire giving out its heat from a 
grand old fireplace, with an agreeable visitor, — 
the physician of the place, — the tediousness of 
the three-hours' camp on the marshes was soon 
forgotten, while the country and its resources 
were fully discussed until a late hour. 

Dr. Baxter had experimented in grape culture, 



158 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

and gave me many interesting details in regard 
to the native wine. In 17 14, Lawson described 
six varieties of native grapes found in North 
CaroHna. Our three finest varieties of native 
grapes were taken from Narth Carolina. They 
are the Scuppernong, the Catawba, and the Isa- 
bella. The Scuppernong was found upon the 
banks of the stream bearing that name, the 
mouth of which is near the eastern end of Albe- 
marle Sound. The Catawba was originally ob- 
tained on the Catawba River, near its head-waters 
in Buncombe County. The Long Island stock 
of the Isabella grape was brought to New York 
by Mrs. Isabella Gibbs: hence the derivation of 
the name. 

Of the six varieties of North Carolina grapes, 
five were found in Tyrrel County by Amadas 
and Barlow. Tradition relates that these trav- 
ellers carried one small vine to Roanoke Island, 
which still lives and covers an immense area of 
ground. There are five varieties of the grape 
growing wild on the shores of Albemarle Sound, 
all of which are called Scuppernong, — the legit- 
imate Scuppernong being a white grape, sweet 
and large, and producing a wine said to resemble 
somewhat in its luscious flavor the Malmsey 
made on Mount Ida, in Candia. 

The repairing of the outrigger detained me 
until nearly noon of the next day, when the 
canoe was got under way; but upon rowing off 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 59 

the mouth of Coanjock Bay, only four miles from 
Currituck Court House, a strong tempest arose 
from the south, and observing an old gentle- 
man standing upon Bell Island Point, near his 
cottage, beckoning me to come ashore, I obeyed, 
and took refuge with my new acquaintance, Cap- 
tain Peter L. Tatum, proprietor of Bell Island. 

"The war has left us without servants," said 
the captain, as he presented me to his wife, " so 
we make the best of it, and if you will accept 
our hospitality we will make you comfortable." 

Captain Tatum drew my attention to the flocks 
of swans which dotted the waters in the offing, 
and said: " It is hard work to get hold of a swan, 
though they are a large bird, and abundant in 
Currituck Sound. You must use a good rifle 
to bring one down. After a strong norther has 
been blowing, and the birds have worked well 
into the bight of the bay, near Goose Castle Point, 
if the wind shifts to the south suddenly, gunners 
approach from the outside, and the birds becom- 
ing cramped in the cove are shot as they rise 
against the wind." 

More than forty years ago old Currituck Inlet 
closed, and the oysters on the natural beds, which 
extended up North Landing River to Green 
Point, were killed by the freshening of the 
water. Now winds influence the tides which 
enter at Oregon Inlet, about fifty-five miles 
south of the Court House. The difference be- 



l6o VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

tween the highest and lowest tide at Currituck 
Court House is three feet. The sound is filled 
with sandy shoals, with here and there spots of 
mud. The shells of the defunct oysters are 
everywhere found mixed with the debris of the 
bottom of the sound. This is a favorite locality 
with northern sportsmen. The best "gunning 
points," as is the case in Chesapeake Bay, are 
owned b}^ private parties, and cannot be used 
by the public. 

Thursday, the loth of December, was cold, 
and proved as tempestuous as the previous day; 
but the wind had changed to the north, and I 
embarked amid a swashy beam-sea, with the 
hope of reaching Van Slyck's Landing at Cur- 
rituck Narrows. The norther, however, proved 
too much for my safety. My course would be 
easterly until I had passed the mouth of Coan- 
jock Bay and Goose Castle Point, then following 
the trend of the west shore southerly down the 
sound; but the wind raised such a rough sea 
that I was oblig-ed to turn southward into Coan- 
jock Bay, ascend it five miles, and seek for a 
crossing-place overland to the sound again, 
which I found near the entrance of the lock- 
less canal that is used by steamers to pass from 
North Landing River to North River and Albe- 
marle Sound. 

A fire was soon built, upon which I placed 
long, light poles taken from the drift-wood, and 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. l6l 

burning them in pieces of the required lengths, 
(no axe being at hand,) I was prepared to make 
the portage. Laying these pieces of wood on 
the ground, I drew my canoe over them to the 
shore of Currituck Sound; then, by making up 
back-loads of the cargo, transported everything 
to the point of embarkation, which was just 
inside the mouth of a little creek. 

The row to Currituck Narrows was not diffi- 
cult, as the north wind was a fair one. Along 
the west shore of the sound there were many 
little houses upon the high banks, and a wind- 
mill supplied the place of a water-power for 
grinding corn. The improvements made by Mr. 
Van Slyck, of New York, were in cheering con- 
trast to what had been seen since leaving Nor- 
folk. Here a comfortable hotel welcomes the 
northern sportsmen, few of whom, for lack of 
accommodations and travelling conveniences, go 
much south of this locality, in this state, to shoot 
wild-fowl. Currituck Sound has an average 
width of four miles. Its length is about thirty- 
five miles. At the Narrows, a group of marshy 
islands divides it into two sections, the northern 
one being the longest. 

The keen, cold air of the next day made row- 
ing a pleasant exercise. After passing through 
the tortuous channel, I should have crossed to the 
beach and followed it; but this part of the bay 
is very shallow, and deeper water was found on 
II 



l62 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the west side. It was an enjoyable morning, 
for gunners were passed, secreted behind their 
" blinds," or pens, of pine brush, which looked like 
little groves of conifera growing out of the shoal 
water. Geese were honking and ducks were 
quacking, while the deep booming of guns was 
heard every few minutes. Decoy-birds were 
anchored in many places near the marshes. 
Ever}^ sportsman gave me a cheering word as 
the canoe glided over the smooth water, while 
here and there the violet-backed swallow dart- 
ed about over the marshes as though it were 
summer. 

When opposite Dew's Quarter Island, several 
men hailed me from a newly constructed shanty. 
When the oldest man in the company, who had 
never seen a shell like the paper canoe, had ex- 
amined it, he shook his head ominously; and 
when I told him Nag's Head must be reached 
that day, he grew excited, exclaiming, "Then be 
off now! now! Git across the bay under Bald 
Beach as soon as ye can, and hug the shore, hug 
it well clean down to Collington's, and git across 
the sound afore the wind rises. Sich a boat as 
that aren't fit for these here waters." 

Taking this kindly meant advice, I pulled to 
the east side, where there was now a good depth 
of water for the canoe. On this high beach the 
hills were well covered with yellow pines, many 
of which were noble old trees. On a narrow 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 63 

point of the shore was the comfortable house of 
Hodges Gallup, the Baptist minister, a generous 
old gentleman, who seemed to be loved by all 
the watermen along the sound. He was de- 
scribed as being " full of fun and hospitality." 
His domain extended for several miles alonsf 
the beach, and, with deer quietly browsing in his 
grand old woods, formed a pretty picture. 

The beach shore now became more thickly 
settled, while out in the water, a few rods from 
each little house, arose the duck-blind, with the 
gunner and his boat inside, anxiously watching 
for birds, while their decoys floated quietly on 
the surface of the water. A few miles below 
Ml". Gallup's estate the canoe entered upon the 
broad waters of Albemarle Sound, and at dusk I 
approached Roanoke Island. The large build- 
ings of the hotels of Nag's Head on the beach 
rose up as boldly to the e3^e as a fortification. 
The little sound between Roanoke Island and 
the beach was traversed at dusk as far as the first 
long pier of Nag's Head, upon which with great 
difficulty I landed, and was soon joined by the 
keeper of the now deserted summer watering- 
place, Mr. C. D. Rutter, who helped me to carry 
my property into a room of the old hotel. 

Nag's Head Beach is a most desolate locality, 
with its high sand-hills, composed of fine sand, 
the forms of which are constantly changing with 
the action of the dry, hard, varying winds. A 



164 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

new and very large hotel was located south of 
the first one, and was inhabited by the family of 
Captain Jasper Toler, who furnished me with 
lodgings. A few fishermen have their homes on 
this dreary beach, but the village, with its one 
store, is a forlorn place. 

The bright flashes of Body Island Light, ten 
miles distant, on the north side of Oregon Inlet, 
showed me my next abiding-place. 

The beach from Nag's Head to Oregon Inlet 
is destitute of trees, and the wind sweeps across 
it, from the ocean to the sound, with great vio- 
lence, forcing the shallow waters to retire, and 
leaving the bottom dry as far out as three miles. 

The next day was very windy, and the long, 
finger-like, sandy shoals, which extended one or 
two miles out into the sound, were covered with 
only from three to eight inches of water. I could 
not hug the beach for protection, but was forced 
to keep far out in the sound. Frequently it be- 
came necessary to get overboard and wade, push- 
ing my boat before me. Then a deep channel 
between the shoals would be crossed; soj by 
walking and rowing- in Roanoke Sound, with 
the wind blowing the water over the canoe and 
drenching its captain, the roundabout twelve 
miles' passage to Oregon Inlet was at last accom- 
plished, and a most trying one it was. 

Body Island Light House was erected in 1872, 
on the north side of Oregon Inlet, to take the 






VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 65 

place of the old tower on the south shore. It is 
in latitude 35° 48', and longitude 75° 2)?>'- Cap- 
tain William F. Hatzel, a loyal North Carolinian, 
is the principal keeper, and a most efficient one 
he is. 

The temperature was falling rapidly when I 
crawled into the high rushes of the wet marsh 
near the light-house to seek shelter from the 
strong wind that was blowing. As this treeless 
beach was destitute of lire-wood, or natural shel- 
ter of any kind, necessity compelled me to have 
recourse to other means for procuring them. I 
carried in my pocket a talisman which must 
open any light-keeper's door; from Maine to the 
Rio Grande, from Southern California to Alaska, 
even to the vicinity of the Arctic Circle, the Light- 
house Establishment of the United States has 
planted a tower or erected a light. While shiv- 
ering in wet clothes on this desolate beach, most 
thankfully did I remember that kind and thought- 
ful friend, who through his potent influence had 
supplied me with this open sesame to light- 
keepers. 

There resides in Washington, when not en- 
gaged elsewhere in the important duties of the 
Commission of Fisheries, a genial gentleman, an 
ardent naturalist, a great scientist. To him the 
young naturalists of America turn for information 
and advice, and to the humblest applicant Pro- 
fessor Spencer F. Baird never turns a deaf ear. 



1 66 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

How this distinguished author can attend to so 
many and such varied duties with his laborious 
investigations, and can so successfully keep up a 
large correspondence with perhaps one thousand 
scientific associations of nearly every nation of 
the universe, is a difficult thing to imagine; but 
the popular and much beloved Assistant Secre- 
tary of the Smithsonian Institution, seemingly 
ubiquitous in his busy life, does all this and much 
more. America may well feel proud of this man 
of noble nature, shedding light and truth where- 
soever he moves, encouraging alike old and 
370ung w^ith his kindly sympathy; — now taking 
his precious moments to answer with his own 
busy hand the question in the letter of some boy 
naturalist about beasts, birds, reptiles, or fishes, 
with which epistles his desk is always covered; 
now stimulating to further effort the old man of 
science as he struggles with the cares of this 
world, striving, sometimes vainly, save for this 
ever ready aid, to work out patiently theories 
which are soon to blaze forth as substantial facts. 
The young generation of naturalists, which is 
soon to fill the place of their predecessors, have 
in this man the type of all they need ever strive 
to attain. How many, alas, will fall far short 
of it! 

Since boyhood the counsels of this friend had 
guided me on many a journey of exploration. 
He had not deserted me even in this experiment, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 67 

which my friends called "your wildest and most 
foolish undertaking." He had obtained from the 
Light House Board a general letter to the light- 
keepers of the United States, signed by the 
naval secretary, Mr. Walker, in which the keep- 
ers were authorized to grant me shelter, &c., 
when necessary. I did not have occasion to use 
this letter more than twice during my journey. 
Having secreted my canoe in the coarse grass 
of the lowland, I trudged, with my letter in hand, 
over the sands to the house of the light-keeper, 
Captain Hatzel, who received me cordially; and 
after recording in his log-book the circumstances 
and date of my arrival, conducted me into a 
comfortable room, which was warmed by a 
cheerful fire, and lighted up by the smiles of his 
most orderly wife. Everything showed disci- 
pline and neatness, both in the house and the 
light-tower. The whitest of cloths was spread 
upon the table, and covered with a well-cooked 
meal; then the father, mother, and two sons, 
with the stranger within their gates, thanked the 
Giver of good gifts for his mercies. 

Joining the night-watch of the chief light- 
keeper, I also joined in the good man's enthusi- 
asm for his wonderful " fixed white light," the 
bright beams of which poured out upon the sur- 
rounding waters a flood of brilliancy, gladdening 
hearts far out at sea, even though twenty miles 
away, and plainly saying, "This is Body Island 



1 68 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Beach : keep off! " How grand it was to walk 
out on this gallery in the sky! Looking east- 
ward, a limitless expanse of ocean; gazing west- 
ward, the waters of the great sound, the shores 
of which were low marshes miles awa3^ Below 
me could be heard the soft cackle of the snow- 
goose (^Anser hyperboreus), which had left its 
nesting-place on the barren grounds of arctic 
America, and was now feeding contentedly in its 
winter home in the shallow salt-ponds; which the 
gentle shur-r-r- of the waves softly broke on 
the strand. Above, the star-lit heavens, whose 
tender beauty seemed almost within my grasp. 

Perched thus upon a single shaft, on a narrow 
strip of sand far out in the great water, the many 
thoughts born of solitude crowded my mind, 
when my reverie was abruptly broken by an 
exclamation from Captain Hatzel, who threw 
open the door, and exclaimed, with beaming 
eyes peering into the darkness as he spoke, " I 
see it! Yes, it is! Hatteras Light, thirty-five 
miles away. This night, December 13th, is the 
first time I have caught its flash. Tell it to the 
Hatteras keeper when you visit the cape." 

From Captain Hatzel I gleaned some facts of 
deep interest in regard to the inhabitants of the 
sound. Some of them, he told me, had Indian 
blood in their veins; and to prove the truth of his 
assertion he handed me a well-worn copy of the 
" History of North Carolina," by Dr. Francis L. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 69 

Hawks, D. D. From this I obtained facts which 
might serve for the intricate mazes of a romance. 

It had been a pet scheme with Sir Walter Ra- 
leigh to colonize the coast of North Carolina, 
then known as Virginia, and though several ex- 
peditions had been sent out for that object, each 
had failed of successful issue. One of these 
expeditions sent b}^ Sir Walter to Roanoke Is- 
land consisted of one hundred and twenty-one 
persons, of whom seventeen were women and 
six children. Of all these souls only two men 
returned to the old country, the fate of the re- 
mainder being unknown, and shrouded in the 
gloom which always attends mystery. England 
did not, however, leave her children to perish on 
a barren shore in the new land without at least an 
effort to succor them. 

On March 20, in the year 1590, there sailed 
from Plymouth three ships, the Hopewell, John 
Evangelist, and Little John, taking in tow two 
shallops which were afterwards lost at sea. In 
those days the largest vessels of a fleet did not 
exceed one hundred to one hundred and forty 
tons burden. This expedition was under the 
charge of Admiral John White, governor of the 
colony of Sir Walter Raleigh on Roanoke Island, 
and who had left the feeble band on the island 
in 1587. In thirty-six days and eight hours these 
small vessels arrived off " Hatorask " — Hatteras 
Beach. The fleet dropped anchor three leagues 



lyo VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

off the beach, and sent a well-manned boat 
through an inlet to Pamplico Sound. 

There existed in those days passages from the 
ocean through the beaches into the sounds, 
which have since been filled up by the action 
of the sea. Old Roanoke Inlet, now closed, 
which was about four miles north of the mod- 
ern Oregon Inlet, is supposed to be the one used 
by Sir Walter Raleigh's expeditions. It is only 
four miles from the site of this closed inlet to 
Shallowbag Bay, on Roanoke Island. At the 
southern entrance of the bay, near Ballast Point, 
some vessel evidentl}^ grounded and threw over- 
board her stone ballast; hence the name of the 
point. Captain Hatzel has examined this stone, 
and gives his opinion, as an old pilot, that it is 
foreign in character. He never met with similar 
stones, and believes that this ballast was depos- 
ited at Shallowbag Bay by some of the vessels 
of Sir Walter's expeditions. 

As the boat's crew above mentioned rowed 
northward to Roanoke Island — made famous 
two hundred and seventy-two years later by 
the National and Confederate struggles — they 
sounded their trumpets and sang familiar songs, 
which they hoped might be borne to their coun- 
tr3'men on the shore; but the marshes and up- 
land wilderness returned no answerins" voice. 

At da3^break the explorers landed upon Roa- 
noke Island, which is twelve miles long by two 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 17I 

and a half wide, and found the spot where Ad- 
miral White had left the colony in 1587. Eager- 
ly searching for any tokens of the lost ones, they 
soon traced in the light soil of the island the 
imprint of the moccasin of the savage, but 
looked in vain for any footprint of civilized 
man. What had become of their countrymen? 

At last some one spied a conspicuous tree, 
far up on a sandy bank, blazed and carved. 
There were but three letters cut upon it, C.R. O., 
but these simple symbols possessed a world of 
meaning. Three years before, when the sad 
farewells were being spoken, and the ships were 
ready to set sail for England, this feeble band, left 
to struggle in the wilds of the new land with sad 
forebodings of their possible fate, had agreed 
upon a signal, and had promised Admiral White 
that if driven to starvation upon the island, they 
would plant their colony fifty miles inland, near 
a tribe of friendly Indians. Indeed, before the 
ships sailed for England, they were making prep- 
arations for this move. Admiral White requested 
them to carve upon a tree the name of the local- 
ity to which they should remove, and if distress 
had overtaken them they were to add a cross 
over the lettering. Anxiously gathering round 
this interesting relic of the lost Englishmen, the 
rude chirography was eagerly scanned, but no 
vestige of a cross was found. 

Much relieved in mind, the little company 



172 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

continued their investigations, when, farther on, 
almost in their very pathway, there rose a noble 
tree, pointing its top heavenward, as though to 
remind them in whose care their lost ones had 
been. Approaching this giant, who had stood 
a silent sentinel through winter storms and 
summer skies, they found he bore upon his body 
a message for them. Stripped of its bark, five 
feet upward from the ground there appeared 
upon the bare surface in bold lettering the word 
so full of hope — Croatan'y and now also, as in 
the last case, without the graven cross. Cheered 
by these signs, and believing that the lost colo- 
nists had carried out their early intentions, and 
were now located among the friendly tribe of 
Croatans, wheresoever their country might be, 
the boat's company decided to go at once to the 
ships, and return the next day in search of the 
lost colony. 

One of the ships, in moving its position from 
the unprotected anchorage-ground, parted its 
cable and left an anchor on the bottom — the 
second that had been lost. The wind drove the 
ships towards the beach, when a third anchor 
was lowered; but it held the little fleet so 
close in to the breakers, that the sailors were 
forced to slip their cable and work into a chan- 
nel-way, where, in deeper water, they held their 
ground. 

In debating the propriety of holding on and 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 73 

attempting to wear out the gale, the scarcity of 
their provisions, and the possession of but one 
cask of water, and only one anchor for the fleet 
to ride at, decided them to go southward in quest 
of some favorable landing, where water could be 
found. The council held out the hope of cap- 
turing Spanish vessels in the vicinity of the 
West Indies; and it was agreed that, if success- 
ful, they should return, richly laden with spoils, 
to seek their exiled countr3^men. One of these 
vessels returned to England, while the Admiral 
laid his course for Trinidad; and this was the 
last attempt made to find the colonists. 

More than a century after Admiral White had 
abandoned his colony, Lawson, in writing about 
the Hatteras Indians, says: "They said that 
several of their ancestors were white people, and 
could talk in a book as we do; the truth of 
which is confirmed by grey eyes being frequently 
found among them, and no others. They value 
themselves extremely for their afl[inity to the 
English, and are ready to do them all friendly 
offices. It is probable that the settlement mis- 
carried for want of supplies from England, or 
through the treachery of the natives; for we 
may reasonably suppose that the English were 
forced to cohabit with them for relief and con- 
versation, and that in process of time they 
conformed themselves to the manners of their 
Indian relations." 



174 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Dr. Hawks thinks, " that, driven by starvation, 
such as survived the famine were merged into 
the tribes of friendly Indians at Croatan, and, 
alas I lost ere long every vestige of Christianity 
and civilization; and those who came to shed 
light on the darkness of paganism, in the mys- 
terious providence of God ended by relapsing 
themselves into the heathenism they came to 
remove. It is a sad picture of poor human 
nature." 

It needed not the 'fierce gusts of wind that 
howled about the tall tower, causing it to vibrate 
until water would be spilled out of a pail resting 
upon the floor of- the lantern, blowing one day 
from one quarter of the compass, and changing 
the next to another, to warn me that I was near 
the Cape of Storms. 

Refusing to continue longer with my new 
friends, the canoe was put into the water on the 
1 6th, and Captain Hatzel's two sons proceeded 
in advance with a strong boat to break a channel- 
way through the thin ice which had formed in 
the quiet coves. We were soon out in the sound, 
where the boys left me, and I rowed out of the 
southern end of Roanoke and entered upon the 
wide area of Pamplico Sound. To avoid shoals, 
it being calm, I kept about three miles from the 
beach in three feet of water, until beyond Duck 
Island, when the trees on Roanoke Island slowly 
sank below the horizon; then gradually drawing 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 75 

in to the beach, the two clumps of trees of north 
and south Chicamicomio came into view. A 
life-saving station had recently been erected 
north of the first grove, and there is another 
fourteen miles further south. The two Chica- 
micomio settlements of scattered houses are 
each nearly a mile in length, and are separated 
by a high, bald sand-beach of about the same 
length, which was once heavily wooded; but the 
wind has blown the sand into the forest and 
destroyed it. A wind-mill in each village raised 
its weird arms to the breeze. 

Three miles further down is Kitty Midget's 
Hammock, where a few red -cedars and some 
remains of live-oaks tell of the extensive forest 
that once covered the beach. Here Captain 
Abraham Hooper lives, and occupies himself in 
fishing with nets in the ocean for blue-fish, which 
are salted down and sent to the inland towns for 
a market. I had drawn my boat into the sedge 
to secure a night's shelter, when the old captain 
on his rounds captured me. The change from a 
bed in the damp sedge to the inside seat of the 
largest fireplace I had ever beheld, was indeed 
a pleasant one. Its inviting front covered almost 
one side of the room. While the fire flashed up 
the wide chimney, I sat inside the fireplace with 
the three children of my host, and enjoyed the 
genial glow which arose from the fragments of 
the wreck of a vessel which had pounded her- 



176 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

self to death upon the strand near Kitty Midget's 
Hammock. How curiously those white-haired 
children watched the man who had come so far 
in a paper boat! "Why did not the paper boat 
soak to pieces? " they asked. Each explanation 
seemed but to puzzle them the more; and I 
found myself in much the same condition of 
mind when trying to make some discoveries 
concerning Kitty Midget. She must, however, 
have lived somewhere on Clark's Beach long 
before the present proprietor was born. We 
spent the next day fishing with nets in the surf 
for blue-fish, it being about the last day of 
their stay in that vicinity. They go south as 
far as Cape Hatteras, and then disappear in deep 
water; while the great flocks of gulls, that ac- 
company them to gather the remnants of fish 
they scatter in their savage meals, rise in the air 
and fly rapidly away in search of other dainties. 
On Thursday I set out for Cape Hatteras. 
The old sailor's song, that — 

" Hatteras has a blow in store 
For those who pass her howling door," 

has far more truth than poetry in it. Before pro- 
ceeding far the wind blew a tempest, when a 
young fisherman in his sailboat bore down upon 
me, and begged me to come on board. We at- 
tempted to tow the canoe astern, but she filled 
with water, which obliged us to take her on 
board. As we flew along before the wind, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 77 

dashing over the shoals with mad-cap temerity, 
I discovered that my new acquaintance, Burnett, 
was a most daring as well as reckless sailor. 
He told me how he had capsized his father's 
schooner by carrying sail too long. "This 'ere 
slow way of doing things " he detested. His 
recital was characteristic of the man. 

" You see, sir, we was bound for Newbern 
up the Neuse River, and as we were well into 
the sound with all sail set, and travelling along 
lively, daddy says, ^ Lorenzo, I reckon a little 
yaupon wouldn't hurt me, so I'll go below and 
start a fire under the kittle.' ^ Do as you likes, 
daddy,' sez I. So down below he goes, and I 
takes command of the schooner. A biof black 
squall soon come over Cape Hatteras from the 
Gulf Stream, and it did look like a screecher. 
Now, I thought, old woman, I'll make your sides 
ache; so I pinted her at it, and afore I could luff 
her up in the wind, the squall kreened her on to 
her beam-ends. You'd a laughed to have split 
yourself, mister, if you could have seen daddy a- 
crawling out of the companion-way while the 
water was a-running down stairs like a crick. 
Says he, ruther hurriedly, ^ Sonny, what's up?' 
^ It isn't what's up, daddy; but what's doivn^ 
sez I; ^it sort o' looks as if we had capsized.' 
^ Sure 'nuff,' answered dad, as the ballast shifted 
and the schooner rolled over keel uppermost. 
We floundered about like porpoises, but managed 
12 



178 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

to get astride her backbone, when dad looked 
kind of scornfully at me, and burst out with, 
^ Sonny, do you call yourself a keerful sailor?' 
' Keerful enough, dad,' sez I, ^ for a smart one. 
It's more credit to a man to drive his vessel like 
a sailor, than to be crawling and bobbing along 
like a diamond-backed terrapin.' Now, stranger, 
if you'll believe me, that keerful old father of 
mine would never let me take the helum again, 
so I sticks to my aunt at the cape." 

I found that the boat in which we were sailing 
was a dug-out, made from two immense cypress 
logs. Larger boats than this are made of three 
logs, and smaller ones are dug out of one. 

Burnett told me that frame boats were so easily 
pounded to pieces on the shoals, that dug-outs 
were preferred — being very durable. We soon 
passed the hamlet of North Kinnakeet, then 
Scarsborough with its low houses, then South 
Kinnakeet with its two wind-mills, and after 
these arose a sterile, bald beach with Hatteras 
light-tower piercing the sky, and west of it Hat- 
teras woods and marshes. We approached the 
low shore and ascended a little creek, where 
we left our boats, and repaired to the cottage 
of Burnett's aunt. 

After the barren shores I had passed, this 
little house, imbedded in living green, was like 
a bright star in a dark night. It was hidden 
away in a heavy thicket of live-oaks and cedars. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



179 



and surrounded by yaupons, the bright red ber- 
ries of which gHstened against the light green 
leaves. An old woman stood in the doorway 
with a kindly greeting for her "wild boy," re- 
joicing the while that he had "got back to his 
old aunty once more." 

" Yes, aunty," said my friend Lorenzo, " I am 
back again like a bad penny, but not empty- 
handed; for as soon as our season's catch of 
blue-fish is sold, old aunty will have sixty or 
seventy dollars." 

" He has a good heart, if he is so head-strong," 
whispered the motherly woman, as she wiped a 
tear from her eyes, and gazed with pride upon 
the manly-looking young fellow, and — invited 
us in to tea — yaupon. 



M. 




Body Jsland j_,iGHT-|iousE. 



l8o VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER X. 

FROM CAPE HATTERAS TO CAPE FEAR, NORTH 
CAROLINA. 

CAPE HATTERAS LIGHT. — HABITS OF BIRDS. — STORM AT HAT- 
TERAS INLET. — MILES OF WRECKS. — THE YACHT JULIA 
SEARCHING FOR THE PAPER CANOE. — CHASED BY PORPOISES. 
— MARSH TACKIES. — OCRACOKE INLET. — A GRAVE- YARD BE- 
ING SWALLOWED UP BY THE SEA. — CORE SOUND. — THREE 
WEDDINGS AT HUNTING QUARTERS. — MOREHEAD CITY. — 
NEWBERN. — SWANSBORO. — A PEA-NUT PLANTATION. — THE 
ROUTE TO CAPE FEAR. 

CAPE HATTERAS Is the apex of a tri- 
angle. It is the easternmost part of the 
state of North Carolina, and it extends farther 
into the ocean than any Atlantic cape of the 
United States. It presents a low, broad, sandy 
point to the sea, and for several miles beyond it, 
in the ocean, are the dangerous Diamond Shoals, 
the dread of the mariner. 

The Gulf Stream, with its river-like current 
of water flowing northward from the Gulf of 
Mexico, in its oscillations from east to west fre- 
quently approaches to within eighteen or twenty 
miles of the cape, filling a large area of atmos- 
phere with its warmth, and causing frequent 
local disturbances. The weather never remains 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. l8l 

long in a settled state. As most vessels try to 
make Hatteras Light, to ascertain their true po- 
sition, &c., and because it juts out so far into the 
Atlantic, the locality has become the scene of 
many wrecks, and the beach, from the cape 
down to Hatteras Inlet, fourteen miles, is strewn 
with the fragments of vessels. 

The coast runs north and south above, and 
east and west south of the cape. The old light- 
house had been replaced by the finest light-tower 
I had ever examined, which was completed in 
1870. It is one hundred and ninety feet in 
height, and shows a white, revolving light. 

Body Island Light, though forty feet less in 
elevation, is frequently seen by the Hatteras 
light-keeper, while the splendid Hatteras Light 
had been seen but once by Captain Hatzel, of 
Body Island. One nautical mile south of Hat- 
teras Light is a small beacon light-tower, which 
is of great service to the coasting-vessels that 
pass it in following the eighteen-feet curve of 
the cape two miles from the land inside of Dia- 
mond Shoals. 

While speaking of light-houses, it may be 
interesting to naturalists who live far inland to 
know that while (as they are well aware) thou- 
sands of birds are killed annually during their 
flights by striking against telegraphic wires, 
many wild-fowls are also destroyed by dashing 
against the lanterns of the light-towers during 



Ib2 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the night. While at Body Island Beach, Captain 
Hatzel remarked to me that, during the first 
winter after the new light-tower was completed, 
the snow-geese, which winter on the island, would 
frequently at night strike the thick glass panes 
of the chamber, and fall senseless upon the floor 
of the gallery. The second season they did not 
in a single instance repeat the mistake, but had 
seemingl}' become educated to the character of 
the danger. 

I have seen one lantern damaged to the 
amount of five hundred dollars, by a goose 
breaking a pane of glass and striking heavily 
upon the costly lens which surrounds the lamp. 
Light-keepers sometimes sit upon the gallery, 
and, looking along the pathway of light which 
shoots into the outer darkness over their heads, 
will see a few dark specks approaching them in 
this beam of radiance. These specks are birds, 
confused by the bright rays, and ready to fall an 
easy prey to the eager keeper, who, quickly lev- 
elling his double-barrelled gun, brings it to bear 
upon the opaque, moving cloud, and with the 
discharge of the weapon there goes whirling 
through space to the earth below his next morn- 
ing's breakfast of wild-fowl. 

I found Mr. W. R. Jennett and his first assist- 
ant light-keeper, Mr. A. W. Simpson, intelligent 
gentlemen. The assistant has devoted his time, 
when off duty, to the study of the habits of 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 83 

food-fishes of the sound, and has furnished the 
United States Commission of Fisheries with sev- 
eral papers on that interesting subject. 

Here also was Mr. George Onslow, of the 
United States Signal Service, who had completed 
his work of constructing a telegraph line from 
Norfolk along the beach southward to this point, 
its present terminus. With a fine telescope he 
could frequently identify vessels a few miles 
from the cape, and telegraph their position to 
New York. He had lately saved a vessel by 
telegraphing to Norfolk its dangerous location 
on Hatteras beach, where it had grounded. By 
this timely notice a wrecking-steamer had ar- 
rived and hauled the schooner off in good con- 
dition. 

A low range of hills commences at Cape Hat- 
teras, in the rear of the light-house, and extends 
nearly to Hatteras Inlet. This range is heavily 
wooded with live-oaks, yellow pines, yaupons, 
cedars, and bayonet-plants. The fishermen and 
wreckers live in rudely constructed houses, shel- 
tered by this thicket, which is dense enough to 
protect them from the strong winds that blow 
from the ocean and the sound. 

I walked twelve miles through this pretty, 
green retreat, and spent Sunday with Mr. Homer 
W. Styron, who keeps a small store about two 
miles from the inlet. He is a self-taught as- 
tronomer, and used an ingeniously constructed 



184 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

telescope of his own manufacture for studying 
the heavens. 

I found at the post-office in his store a letter 
from a yachting party which had left Newbern, 
North Carolina, to capture the paper canoe and 
to force upon its captain the hospitality of the 
people of that city, on the Neuse River, one 
hundred miles from the cape. Judge I. E. West, 
the owner of the yacht "Julia," and his friends, 
had been cruising since the eleventh day of the 
month from Ocracoke Inlet to Roanoke Island 
in search of me. Judge West, in his letter, ex- 
pressed a strong desire to have me take my 
Christmas dinner with his family. This gen- 
erous treatment from a stranger was fully ap- 
preciated, and I determined to push on to 
Morehead City, from which place it would be 
convenient to reach Newbern by rail without 
changing my established route southward, as I 
would be compelled to do if the regular water 
route of the Neuse River from Pamlico Sound 
were followed. 

On this Saturday night, spent at Hatteras-Inlet, 
there broke upon us one of the fiercest tempests 
I ever witnessed, even in the tropics. My pedes- 
trian tramp down the shore had scarcely ended 
when it commenced in reality. For miles along 
the beach thousands of acres of land were soon 
submerged by the sea and by the torrents of 
water which fell from the clouds. While for a 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 85 

moment the night was dark as Erebus, again 
the vivid flash of Hghtning exposed to view the 
swaying forests and the gloomy sound. The sea 
pounded on the beach as if asking for admission 
to old Pamplico. It seemed to say, I demand a 
new inlet; and, as though trying to carry out its 
desire, sent great waves rolling up the shingle 
and over into the hollows among the hills, wash- 
ing down the low sand dunes as if they also 
were in collusion with it to remove this frail 
barrier, this narrow strip of low land which 
separated the Atlantic from the wide interior 
sheet of water. 

The phosphorescent sea, covered with its tens 
of millions of animalcula, each one a miniature 
light-house, changed in color from inky blackness 
to silver sheen. Will the ocean take to itself 
this frail foothold? — we queried. Will it in- 
gulf us in its insatiable maw, as the whale did 
Jonah? There was no subsidence, no pause in 
the storm. It howled, bellowed, and screeched 
like a legion of demons, so that the crashing of 
falling trees, and the twisting of the sturdy live- 
oak's toughest limbs, could hardly be heard in 
the din. Yet during this wild night my storm- 
hardened companion sat with his pretty wife by 
the open fireplace, as unmoved as though we 
were in the shelter of a mountain side, while he 
calmly discoursed of storms, shipwrecks, and 
terrible struggles for life that this lonely coast 



1 86 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

had witnessed, which sent thrills of horror to 
my heart. 

While traversing the beach during the after- 
noon, as wreck after wreck, the gravestones of 
departed ships, projected their timbers from the 
sands, I had made a calculation of the number 
of vessels which had left their hulls to rot on 
Hatteras beach since the ships of Sir Walter 
Raleigh had anchored above the cape, and it re- 
sulted in making one continuous line of vessels, 
wreck touching \vreck, along the coast for many, 
many miles. Hundreds of miles of the Atlantic 
coast beaches would have been walled in by the 
wrecks could they have come on to the strand 
at one time, and all the dwellers along the coast, 
outside of the towns, w^ould have been placed 
in independent circumstances by wrecking their 
cargoes. 

During this wild night, while the paper canoe 
was safely stowed in the rushes of the marsh at 
the cape, and its owner was enjoying the warmth 
of the young astronomer's fire at the inlet, less 
than twenty miles from us, on the dangerous 
edge of Ocracoke shoals, the searching party of 
the yacht Julia were in momentary expectation 
of going to the bottom of the sound. For hours 
the gallant craft hung to her anchors, which 
were heavily backed by all the iron ballast that 
could be attached to the cables. Wave after 
wave swept over her, and not a man could put 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 87 

his head above the hatches. Then, as she rolled 
in the sea, her cabin-windows went under, and 
streams of water were forced through the ports in- 
to the confined space which was occupied by the 
little party. For a time they were in imminent 
danger, for the vessel dragged anchor to the edge 
of the shoal, and with a heavy thud the yacht 
struck on the bottom. All hopes of ever return- 
ing to Newbern were lost, when the changing 
tide swung the boat off into deeper water, where 
she rode out the storm in sijfety. 

Before morning the wind shifted, and by nine 
o'clock I retraced my steps to the cape, and on 
Tuesday rowed down to Hatteras Inlet, which 
was reached a little past noon. Before attempt- 
ing to cross this dangerous tidal gate-way of the 
ocean I hugged the shore close to its edge, and 
paused to make myself familiar with the sand- 
hills of the opposite side, a mile away, which 
were to serve as the guiding-beacons in the pas- 
sage. How often had I, lying awake at night, 
thought of and dreaded the crossing of this 
ill-omened inlet! It had given me much mental 
suffering. Now it was before me. Here on my 
right was the great sound, on m}'' left the nar- 
row beach island, and out through the portal 
of the open inlet surged and moaned under a 
leaden sky that old ocean which now seemed to 
frown at me, and to say: "Wait, my boy, until 
the inlet's waves deliver you to me, and I will 



1 88 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

put you among my other victims for your te- 
merity." 

As I gazed across the current I remarked that 
it did not seem very rough, though a strong ebb 
was running out to the sea, and if crossed im- 
mediately, before the wind arose, there could be 
no unreasonable risk. My canvas deck-cover 
was carefully pulled close about my waist, and a 
rigid inspection of oars and row-locks was made; 
then, with a desire to reserve my strength for 
any great demand that might be made upon it a 
little later, I rowed with a steady stroke out into 
Hatteras Inlet. There was no help nearer than 
Styron's, two miles away on the upper shore, 
while the beach I was approaching on the other 
side was uninhabited for nearly sixteen miles, to 
the village at its southern end, near Ocracoke 
Inlet. Upon entering the swash I thought of the 
sharks which the Hatteras fishermen had told 
me frequently seized their oars, snapping the 
thin blades in pieces, assuring me, at the same 
time, that mine would prove very attractive, 
being so white and glimmering in the water, and 
offering the same glittering fascination as a 
silver-spoon bait does to a blue-fish. These 
cheerful suggestions caused a peculiar creeping 
sensation to come over me, but I tried to quiet 
myself with the belief that the sharks had fol- 
lowed the blue-fish into deeper water, to escape 
cold weather. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 89 

The canoe crossed the upper ebb, and entered 
an area where the ebb from the opposite side of 
the inlet struck the first one. While crossing 
the union of the two currents, a wind came in at 
the opening through the beach, and though not 
a strong one, it created a great agitation of the 
water. The dangerous experience at Watcha- 
preague Inlet had taught me that when in such 
a sea one must pull with all his strength, and 
that the increased momentum would give greater 
buoyancy to the shell; for while under this treat- 
ment she bounced from one irregular wave to 
another with a climbing action which greatly 
relieved my anxiety. The danger seemed to be 
decreasing, and I stole a furtive glance over my 
shoulder at the low dunes of the beach shore 
which I was approaching, to see how far into the 
inlet the tide had draofsfed me. The white water 
to leeward warned me of a shoal, and forced me 
to pull hard for the sound to escape being drawn 
into the breakers. This danger was hardly 
passed, when suddenly the waters around me 
seethed and foamed, and the short waves parted 
and closed, as great creatures rose from the 
deep into the air several feet, and then fell heav- 
ily into the sea. My tiny shell rocked and 
pitched about wildly as these animals appeared 
and disappeared, leaping from the waves all around 
me, diving under the boat and reappearing on 
the opposite side. They lashed the current with 



190 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

their strong tails, and snorted or blowed most 
dismally. For an instant surprise and alarm took 
such possession of me that not a muscle of my 
arms obeyed my will, and the canoe commenced 
to drift in the driving stream towards the open 
sea. This confusion was only momentary, for as 
soon as I discovered that my companions were 
porpoises and only old acquaintances, I deter- 
mined to avoid them as soon as possible. 

With a quick glance at my stern range, a sand- 
hill on the shore of the inlet, and another look 
over my shoulder for the sand dunes of the other 
side, I exerted every muscle to reach the beach; 
but my frisky friends were in no mood to leave 
me, but continued their fun with increased ener- 
gy as reinforcements came up from all directions. 
The faster I rowed the more they multiplied, 
ploughing the sea in erratic courses. They were 
from five to seven feet in length, and must have 
weighed from two hundred to four hundred 
pounds each. Though their attentions were kind- 
ly meant, their brusqueness on such an unsteady 
footing was unpardonable. I most feared the 
strong, shooting movements of their tails in the 
sudden dives under my canoe, for one sportive 
touch of such a caudality would have rolled 
me over, and furnished material for a tale the 
very anticipation of which was unpleasant. 

The aquatic gambols of the porpoises lasted 
but a few minutes after they had called in all 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I9I 

their neighbors, and had chased me into three 
feet depth of water. They then spouted a nasal 
farewell, which sounded more catarrhal than 
guitaral, and left me for the more profitable oc- 
cupation of fishing in the tide-way of the inlet, 
while I rowed into a shallow cove, out of the 
ebb, to rest, and to recover from the eflfects of 
my fright. 

As I pulled along the beach the tide receded 
so rapidly that the canoe was constantly ground- 
ing, and wading became necessary, for I could 
not get within several feet of the shore. When 
five miles from Hatteras Inlet I espied an empty 
grass cabin, which the fishermen used in Febru- 
ary while catching shad; and, as a southerly wind 
was now blowing from the sea, and rain was 
falling, it offered a night's shelter for the traveller. 
This Robinson Crusoe looking structure was 
located upon the low land near the sound, while 
bleak, sharp-pointed, treeless and grassless sand- 
hills, blown into shape by the winds, arose in the 
background, and cut off" a view of the ocean, 
which, judging from the low, melancholy moan- 
ing coming over the dunes, was in a sad mood. 

The canoe was hauled into the bushes and 
tied securely for fear a deceptive tide might bear 
it away. The provisions, blankets, &c., were 
moved into the grass hut, which needed repair- 
ing. The holes in the south wall were soon 
thatched, and a bed easily prepared from the 



192 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

rushes of the marsh. It mattered not that they 
were wet, for a piece of painted canvas was 
spread over them, and the inviting couch fin- 
ished. 

As fresh water can usually be obtained on all 
these low beaches by digging two or three feet 
into the sand, I looked for a large clam-shell, and 
my search being rewarded, I was soon engaged 
in digging a well near the cabin. 

Upon looking up from my work a curious 
sight met my gaze. In some m3^sterious way 
every sharp-pointed sand-hill had been covered 
by a black object, which swayed about and nod- 
ded up and down in a strange manner. As I 
watched the development of this startling phe- 
nomenon, the nodding, black objects grew in 
size until the head, body, and four legs of a 
horse were clearly cut against the sky. A little 
later every crest was surmounted by the comical 
figure of a marsh-tacky. Then a few sheep came 
out of the hollows among the hills and browsed 
on the coarse grass near the cabin, as though 
they felt the loneliness of their situation so far 
removed from mankind. With the marsh-ponies, 
the sheep, the wild-fowls of the sound, and the 
sighing sea for companions, the night passed 
away. 

The bright moonlight roused me at five o'clock 
in the morning, and I pushed off" again in shoal 
water on an ebb-tide, experiencing much diffi- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 93 

culty in dragging the canoe over shallow places 
until deep water was entered, when the row to 
Ocracoke became an agreeable one. The land- 
ing-place at Ocracoke, not far from the light- 
house, was reached at noon, and the people 
gathered to see the paper boat, having been 
notified of my proximity by fishermen. 

The women here can pull a pretty good stroke, 
and frequently assist their husbands in the fish- 
eries. These old dames ridiculed the idea of 
having a boat so small and light as the canoe. 
One old lady laid aside her pipe and snuff- 
paddle (snuff-rubbing is a time-honored insti- 
tution in the south), and roughly grasping the 
bow of the craft, lifted it high in the air, then, 
glancing at the fine model, she lowered it slowly 
to the ground, exclaiming, " I reckon I wouldn't 
risk my life acrossing a creek in her." 

These people told me that the yacht Julia had 
stopped there to make inquiries for me, and had 
departed for Newbern. 

It was more than a mile from the landing to 
Ocracoke Inlet, and a mile and three quarters 
across it to the beach. A straight course from 
the landing to the village of Portsmouth, on the 
lower side of the inlet, was a distance of five 
miles, and not one of the hardy watermen, who 
thumped the sides of my boat with their hard 
fists to ascertain its strength, believed that I 
could cross the sound to the other village with- 

13 



194 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

out rolling over. One kind-hearted oysterman 
offered to carry myself and boat to Portsmouth; 
but as the day was calm, I rowed away on the 
five-mile stretch amid doleful prognostications, 
such as: "That feller will make a coffin for his- 
self out of that yere gimcrack of an egg-shell. 
It's all a man's life is wurth to go in her," &c. 

While approaching the low Portsmouth shore 
of the sound, flocks of Canada geese flew within 
pistol-shot of my head. A man in a dug-out 
canoe told me that the gunners of the village 
had reared from the egg a flock of wild geese 
which now aggregated some seven or eight hun- 
dred birds, and that these now flying about were 
used to decoy their wild relatives. 

Near the beach a sandy hill had been the place 
of sepulture for the inhabitants of other genera- 
tions, but for years past the tidal current had 
been cutting the shore away until coffin after 
coffin with its contents had been washed into 
the sound. Captain Isaac S. Jennings, of Ocean 
County, New Jersey, had described this spot to 
me as follows: 

" I landed at Portsmouth and examined this 
curious burial-ground. Here by the water were 
the remains of the fathers, mothers, brothers, 
and sisters of the people of the village so near at 
hand; yet these dismal relics of their ancestors 
were allowed to be stolen away piecemeal by 
the encroaching ocean. While I gazed sadly 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 1 95 

upon the strata of coffins protruding from the 
banks, shining objects like jewels seemed to be 
sparkling from .between the cracks of their frac- 
tured sides; and as I tore away the rotten wood, 
rows of toads were discovered sitting in sol- 
emn council, their bright eyes peering from 
among the debris of bones and decomposed 
substances." 

Portsmouth Island is nearly eight miles long. 
Whalebone Inlet is at its lower end, but is too 
shallow to be of any service to commerce. Hat- 
teras and Ocracoke inlets admit sea-going ves- 
sels. It is thirty-eight miles from Whalebone 
Inlet to Cape Lookout, which projects like a 
wedge into the sea nearly three miles from the 
mainland, and there is not another passage 
through the narrow beach in all that distance 
that is of any use to the mariner. Following 
the trend of the coast for eleven miles from the 
point of Cape Lookout, there is an inlet, but, 
from the character of its channel and its shal- 
lowness, it is not of much value. 

Leaving Portsmouth, the canoe entered Core 
Sound, which grew narrower as the shoals inside 
of Whalebone Inlet were crossed, partly by row- 
ing and partly by wading on the sand-flats. As 
night came on, a barren stretch of beach on my 
left hand was followed until I espied the only 
house within a distance of sixteen miles along 
the sea. It was occupied by a coasting skipper, 



196 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

whose fine little schooner was anchored a long 
distance from the land on account of the shoal- 
ness of the water. Dreary sand-hills protected 
the cottaofe from the bleak winds of the ocean. 

While yet a long distance from the skipper's 
home, a black object could be seen crawling up 
the sides of a mound of white sand, and after it 
reached the apex it remained in one position, 
while I rowed, and waded, and pulled my canoe 
towards the shore. When the goal was reached, 
and the boat was landed high up among the 
scrub growth, I shouldered my blankets and 
charts, and plodded through the soft soil towards 
the dark object, which I now recognized to be a 
man on a lookout post. He did not move from 
his position until I reached the hillock, when he 
suddenly slid down the bank and landed at my 
feet, with a cheery — 

" Well, now, I thought it was you. Sez I to 
myself. That's him, sure, when I seed you 
four miles away. Fust thinks I, It's only a 
log, or a piece of wrak-stuff afloating. Pretty 
soon up comes your head and shoulders into 
sight; then sez I, It's a man, sure, but where is 
his boat? for you see, I couldn't see your boat, it 
was so low down in the water. Then I reckoned 
it was a man afloating on a log, but arter a 
while the boat loomed up too, and I says, I'll be 
dog-goned if that isn't him. I went up to New- 
bern, some time ago, in the schooner, and the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 97 

people there said there was a man coming down 
the coast a-rowing a paper boat on a bet. The 
boat weighed only fifty-eight pounds, and the 
man had a heft of only eighty pounds. When 
pa and me went up to the city agin, the folks 
said the man was close on to us, and this time 
they said the man and his boat together weighed 
only eighty pounds. Now I should think 3^ou 
weighed more than that yourself, letting alone 
the boat." 

Having assured the young man that I was 
indeed myself, and that the Newbern people had 
played upon his credulity, we walked on to the 
house, where the family of Captain James Mason 
kindly welcomed me to a glowing w^ood-fire and 
hearty supper. Though I had never heard of 
their existence till I entered Core Sound, the 
kindness of these people was like that of old 
friends. 

Half a mile below Captain Mason's home, a 
short time before my visit, a new breach had 
been made by the ocean through the beach. 
About twenty years before a similar breach had 
occurred in the same locality, and w^as known 
during its short life as " Pillintary Inlet." The 
next day I crossed the sound, which is here four 
miles in width, and coasted along to the oyster- 
men's village of Hunting Quarters, on the main- 
land. The houses were very small, but the 
hearts of the poor folks were very large. They 



198 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

came to the water's edge and carried the canoe 
into the only store in the neighborhood. Its 
proprietor, Mr. William H. Stewart, insisted 
upon my sharing his bachelor's quarters in an 
unfinished room of the storehouse. My young 
host was hardly out of his teens. In his boyish 
way he kindly remarked: 

" I am here all alone. Father told me, before 
he died, never to let a stranger pass my door but 
to make him share my lodgings, humble though 
they are; and now, any way, you're just in time 
for the fun, for we are to have three weddings 
to-night, and all the boys and girls of the neigh- 
borhood will be at Hunting Quarters." 

I entered a mild protest against joining in the 
festivities, on the plea of not having received an 
invitation ; at which the handsome youth laughed 
heartily. 

"Invitation!" he exclaimed; "why, no one 
ever gives out invitations in Hunting Quarters. 
When there is to be a 'jollification' of any sort, 
everybody goes to the house without being- 
asked. You see we are all neighbors here. Up 
at Newbern and at Beaufort, and other great 
cities, people have their ways, but here all are 
friends." 

So we went to the little house in the piny 
forest, where two hearts were to be made one. 
The only room on the first floor was crowded 
with people. The minister had not arrived, and 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. I 99 

the crowd was gazing at the young groom and his 
pretty bride-elect as they sat in two chairs in the 
middle of the company, with their arms around 
each other, never speaking a word to any one. 
The heavy weight of people began to settle the 
floor, and as two joists gave way I struggled to 
escape through an open window, thinking we 
would be precipitated into the cellar below. 
But the good-natured company took no notice 
of the snapping timbers, only ejaculating, "She'll 
soon touch bottom;" and to my inquiries about 
the inconvenience of being pitched through to 
the cellar, a rustic youth, with great merriment 
depicted upon his countenance, replied: 

" SuUers, captain, why, there ain't a suUer to a 
buildin' within thirty miles of the Quarters. We 
never uses sullers hereabouts." 

By my side was a young fisherman, who had 
got home from a cruise, and was overflowing 
with affection towards every girl present. " O, 
gals," he would cry, "you don't know how nice 
I feels to get back to you once more! " Throw- 
ing his arms around a bright-eyed girl, who 
vainly tried to escape him, he said, " O, weary 
mariner, here is thy rest! No more shall he 
wander from thee." 

This sentimental strain was interrupted by an 
old lady, who reached her arm over my shoul- 
der to administer a rebuke. " Sam, ye're a fool ! " 
she cried; "ye're beside yourself to-night, and 



200 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

afore this paper-canoe captain, too. Ef I was 
a gal rd drap yere society, wid yere familiar 
ways right in company." 

The blow and the admonition fell harmlessly 

upon the head and the heart of the sailor, who 

Replied, " Aunty, I knows my advantages in 

Hunting Quarters — wimen is plenty, a ?id men 

is yetuy 

The crowd roared with laughter at this truism, 
but were quieted by the shout of a boy that 
the preacher was a-coming; whereupon the rev- 
erend gentleman elbowed his way through 
the guests to the quiet couple, and requested 
them to stand up. A few hurried words by the 
clergyman, a few bashful replies from the young 
people, and the two were made one. The crowd 
rushed outside of the house, where a general 
scramble took place among the boys for their 
girls. Then a procession was formed, headed 
by the clergyman, which marched along the 
sandy road to another house in the woods, where 
the second marriage was to be celebrated. 

It was amusing to see the young men dash 
away from the procession, to run to the village store 
for candy at twenty-five cents per pound, con- 
taining as much tej')'a alba (white clay) as sugar. 
With well-filled pockets they would run back to 
the procession and fill the girls' aprons with the 
sweets, soon repeating the process, and shower- 
ing upon the fair ones cakes, raisins, nuts, and 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 20I 

oranges. The only young man who seemed to 
find no favor in any woman's eyes invested 
more capital in sweetmeats than the others; and 
though every girl in the procession gave him a 
sharp word or a kick as he passed, yet none re- 
fused his candies as he tossed them at the maid- 
ens, or stuffed them into the pockets of their 
dresses. 

The second ceremony was performed in about 
three minutes, and the preacher feeling faint from 
his long ride through the woods, declared he must 
have some supper. So, while he was being 
served, the girls chatted together, the old ladies 
helped each other to snuff with little wooden pad- 
dles, which were left protruding from one corner 
of their mouths after they had taken "a dip," 
as they called it. The boys, after learning that 
the preacher had postponed the third marriage 
for an hour, with a wild shout scampered off 
to Stewart's store for more candies. I took 
advantage of the interim to inquire how it was 
that the young ladies and gentlemen were upon 
such terms of pleasant intimacy. 

"Well, captain," replied the person interro- 
gated, "3-0U sees we is all growed up together, 
and brotherly love and sisterly affection is our 
teaching. The brethren love the sisteren; and 
they say that love begets love, so the sisteren 
loves the brethren. It's parfecly nateral. That's 
the hull story, captain. How is it up your way? " 



202 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

At last the preacher declared himself satisfied 
with all he had eaten, and that enough was as 
good as a feast; so the young people fell into line, 
and we trudged to the third house, where, with 
the same dispatch, the third couple were united. 
Then the fiddler scraped the strings of his instru- 
ment, and a double-shuffle dance commenced. 
The girls stamped and moved their feet about in 
the same manner as the men. Soon four or five 
of the young ladies left the dancing-party, and 
seated themselves in a corner, pouting discon- 
tentedly. My companion explained to me that 
the deserters were a little stuck-up, having 
made two or three visits on a schooner to the 
city (Newbern), where they had other ways 
of dancing, and where the folks didn't think 
it pretty for a girl to strike her heels upon the 
floor, &c. 

How long they danced I know not, for the 
prospect of a long row on the morrow sent me 
to rest in the storehouse, from which I was called 
by a kind old couple sending for me to take tea 
with them at half an hour after midnight. Un- 
willing to wound the sensitive feelings of these 
hospitable people, I answered the summons in 
-propria peisona^ and found it was the mother 
of bride No. i, to whom I was indebted for 
the invitation. A well-filled table took up the 
space in the centre of the room, where a few 
hours before the timbers creaked beneath the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 203 

weight of the curious crowd; and there, sitting 
on one side in the same affectionate manner I 
have described, were the bride and groom, ap- 
parently unmoved by the change of scene, while 
the bride's mother rocked in her chair, moaning, 
" O John, if you'd taken the other gal, I might 
have stood it, but this yere one has been my 
comfort." 

At dawn the canoe was put into Core Sound, 
and I followed the western shore, cheered by the 
bright sun of our Saviour's natal day. At noon 
the mouth of the thoroughfare between Harker's 
Island and the mainland was unintentionally 
passed, and I rowed along by the side of the 
island next Fort Macon, which is inside of the 
angle made by Cape Lookout. 

Finding it impossible to reach Newbern via 
Morehead City that day, the canoe was beached 
upon the end of Harker's Island, where I break- 
fasted at the fashionable hour of two p. m., with 
men, women, and children around me. My 
mode of cooking the condensed food and liquid 
beef, so quickly prepared for the palate, and the 
remarkable boat oi ^a^er^ all filled the islanders 
with wonder. They were at first a little shy, 
looking upon the apparition — which seemed in 
some wonderful way to have dropped upon 
their beach — with the light of curiosity in their 
eyes. 

Then, as I explained the many uses to which 



204 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

paper was put, even to the pa3nng off of great 
national debts, my audience became very friend- 
ly, and offered to get me up a Christmas dinner 
in their cabins among the groves of trees near 
the strand, if I would tarry with them until night. 
But time was precious; so, with thanks on my 
part for their kind offers, we parted, they helping 
me launch my little boat, and waving a cheerful 
adieu as I headed the canoe for Beaufort, which 
was quietly passed in the middle of the afternoon. 

Three miles further on, the railroad pier of 
Morehead City, in Bogue Sound, was reached, 
and a crowd of people carried the canoe into 
the hotel. A telegram was soon received from 
the superintendent of the railroad at Newbern, 
inviting me to a free ride to the city in the first 
train of the following morning. 

The reader who has followed me since I left 
the chilly regions of the St. Lawrence must not 
have his patience taxed by too much detail, lest 
he should weary of my story and desert my 
company. Were it not for this fear, it would 
give me pleasure to tell how a week was passed 
in Newbern; how the people came even from 
interior towns to see the paper canoe; how 
some, doubting my veracity, slyly stuck the 
blades of their pocket-knives through the thin 
sides of the canoe, forgetting that it had yet to 
traverse many dangerous inlets, and that its 
owner preferred a tight, dry boat to one punc- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 205 

tured by knives. Even old men became enthu- 
siastic, and when I was absent from my Httle 
craft, an uncontrollable ambition seized them, 
and they got into the frail shell as it rested upon 
the floor of a hall, and threatened its destruc- 
tion. It seemed impossible to make one gen- 
tleman of Newbern understand that when the 
boat was in the water she was resting upon all 
her bearings, but when out of water only upon 
a thin strip of wood. 

" By George," said this stout gentleman in a 
whisper to a friend, " I told my wife I would get 
into that boat if I smashed it." 

"And what did the lady say, old fellow?" 
asked the friend. 

" O," he replied, " she said, ^ Now don't make 
a fool of yourself. Fatness, or your ambition may 
get you into the papers,' " and the speaker fairly 
shook with laughter. 

While at Newbern, Judge West and his brother 
organized a grand hunt, and the railroad com- 
pany sent us down the road eighteen miles to a 
wild district, where deer, coons, and wild-fowl 
were plentiful, and where we hunted all night for 
coons and ducks, and all day for deer. Under 
these genial influences the practical study of 
geography for the first time seemed dull, and I 
became aware that, under the eflbrts of the cit- 
izens of Newbern to remind me of the charms 



206 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

of civilized society, I was, as a travelling geog- 
rapher, fast becoming demoralized. 

Could I, after the many pleasures I was daily 
enjoying, settle down to a steady pull and one 
meal a day with a lunch of dry crackers; or 
sleep on the floor of fishermen's cabins, with 
fleas and other little annoyances attendant there- 
on? Having realized my position, I tore m3'self 
away from my many new friends and retraced 
my steps to Morehead City, leaving it on Tues- 
day, January 5th, and rowing down the little 
sound called Bogue towards Cape Fear. 

As night came on I discovered on the shore a 
grass cabin, which. was on the plantation of Dr. 
Emmett, and had been left tenantless by some 
fisherman. This served for shelter during the 
night, though the struggles and squealings of a 
drove of hogs attempting to enter through the 
rickety door did not contribute much to my 
repose. 

The watercourses now became more intri- 
cate, growing narrower as I rowed southward. 
The open waters of the sound were left behind, 
and I entered a labyrinth of creeks and small 
sheets of water, which form a network in the 
marshes between the sandy beach-islands and 
the mainland all the way to Cape Fear River. 
The Core Sound sheet of the United States 
Coast Surve}' ended at Cape Lookout, there be- 
ing no charts of the route to Masonboro. I was 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 207 

therefore now travelling upon local knowledge, 
which proves usually a very uncertain guide. 

In a cold rain the canoe reached the little vil- 
lage of Swansboro, where the chief personage 
of the place of two hundred inhabitants, Mr. 
McLain, removed me from my temporary camp- 
ing-place in an old house near the turpentine 
distilleries into his own comfortable quarters. 

There are twenty mullet fisheries within ten 
miles of Swansboro, which employ from fifteen 
to eighteen men each. The pickled and dried 
roe of this fish is shipped to Wilmington and to 
Cincinnati. Wild-fowls abound, and the shoot- 
ing is excellent. The fishermen say flocks of 
ducks seven miles in length have been seen on 
the waters of Bogue Sound. Canvas-backs are 
called " raft-ducks " here, and they sell from 
twelve to twenty cents each. Wild geese bring 
forty cents, and brant thirty. 

The marsh-ponies feed upon the beaches, in 
a half wild state, with the deer and cattle, cross 
the marshes and swim the streams from the main- 
land to the beaches in the spring, and graze there 
until winter, when they collect in little herds, 
and instinctively return to the piny woods of 
the uplands. Messrs. Weeks and Taylor had 
shot, while on a four-days' hunt up the White 
Oak River, twenty deer. Captain H. D. Heady, 
of Swansboro, informed me that the ducks and 
geese he killed in one winter supplied him with 



2o8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

one hundred pounds of selected feathers. Cap- 
tain Heady's description of Bogue Inlet was not 
encouraging for the future prosperity of this 
coast, and the same may be said of all the inlets 
between it and Cape Fear. 

Rainy weather kept me within doors until 
Friday, the 7th of January, when I rowed down 
White Oak River to Bogue Inlet, and turned 
into the beach thoroughfare, which led me three 
miles and a half to Bear Inlet. My course now 
la}^ through creeks among the marshes to the 
Stand-Back, near the mainland, where the tides 
between the two inlets head. Across this shoal 
spot I traversed tortuous watercourses with mud 
flats, from which beds of sharp raccoon oysters 
projected and scraped the keel of my boat. 

The sea was now approached from the main- 
land to Brown's Inlet, where the tide ran like 
a mill-race, swinging my canoe in great circles 
as I crossed it to the lower side. Here I took 
the widest thoroughfare, and left the beach only 
to retrace my steps to follow one nearer the 
strand, which conducted me to the end of the 
natural system of watercourses, where I found a 
ditch, dug seventy years before, w^hich connected 
the last system of waters with another series of 
creeks that emptied their waters into New River 
Inlet. 

Emerging from the marshes, my course led 
me away from New River Inlet, across open 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 209 

sheets of water to the mainland, where Dr. 
Ward's cotton plantation occupied a large and 
cultivated area in the wilderness. It was nearly 
two miles from his estate down to the inlet. 
The intervening flats among the island marshes 
of New River were covered with natural beds 
of oysters, upon which the canoe scraped as I 
crossed to the narrow entrance of Stump Sound. 
Upon rounding a point of land I found, snugly 
ensconced in a grove, the cot of an oysterman, 
Captain Risley Lewis, who, after informing me 
that his was the last habitation to be found in 
that vicinity, pressed me to be his guest. 

The next day proved one of trial to patience 
and muscle. The narrow watercourses, which 
like a spider's web penetrate the marshes with 
numerous small sheets of water, made travelling 
a most difficult task. At times I was lost, again 
my canoe was lodged upon oyster-beds in the 
shallow ponds of water, the mud bottoms of 
which would not bear my weight if I attempted 
to get overboard to lighten the liitle craft. 

Alligator Lake, two miles in width, was crossed 
without seeing an alligator. Saurians are first 
met with, as the traveller proceeds south, in the 
vicinity of Alligator Creek and the Neuse River, 
in the latitude of Pamplico Sound. During the 
cold weather they hide themselves in the soft, 
muddy bottoms of creeks and lagoons. All the 
negroes, and many of the white people of the 



2IO VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

south, assert, that when captured in his winter 
bed, this huge reptile's stomach contains the hard 
knot of a pine-tree; but for what purpose he 
swallows it they are at a loss to explain. 

In twelve miles of tortuous windings there 
appeared but one sign of human life — a little 
cabin on a ridge of upland among the fringe 
of marshes that bordered on Alligator Lake. It 
was cheering to a lonely canoeist to see this 
house, and the clearing around it with the sea- 
son's crop of corn in stacks dotting the field. 
All this region is called Stump Sound; but that 
sheet of water is a well-defined, narrow, lake- 
like watercourse, which was entered not long 
after I debouched from Alligator Lake. Stump 
Inlet having closed up eighteen months before 
my visit, the sound and its tributaries received 
tidal water from New Topsail Inlet. 

It was a cold and rainy evening when I sought 
shelter in an old boat-house, at a landing on 
Topsail Sound, soon after leaving Stump Sound. 
While preparing for the night's camp, the son 
of the proprietor of the plantation discovered 
the, to him, unheard-of spectacle of a paper boat 
upon the gravelly strand. Filled with curiosity 
and delight, he dragged me, paddle in hand, 
through an avenue of trees to a hill upon which 
a large house was located. This was the boy's 
home. Leaving me on the broad steps of the 
veranda, he rushed into the hall, shouting to 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 211 

the family, " Here's a sailor who has come from 
the north in a paper boat." 

This piece of intelligence roused the good 
people to merriment. "Impossible!" "A boat 
made of paper ! " " Nonsense ! " 

The boy, however, would not be put down. 
"But it is made of paper, I tell you; for I 
pinched it and stuck my nails into it," he re- 
plied earnestly. 

" You are crazy, my boy, " some one re- 
sponded; " a paper boat never could go through 
these sounds, the coon oysters would cut it in 
pieces. Now tell us, is the sailor made of 
paper, like his boat? " 

" Indeed, mother, what I tell you is true; and, 
O, I forgot! here's the sailor on the steps, where 
I left him." In an instant the whole family were 
out upon the veranda. Seeing my embarrass- 
ment, they tried, like well-bred people, to check 
their merriment, while I explained to them the 
way in which the boy had captured me, and 
proposed at once returning to my camp. To 
this, however, they would not listen; and the 
charming wife of the planter extended her hand 
to me, as she said, " No, sir, you will not go back 
to the wet landing to camp. This is our home, 
and though marauding armies during the late 
war have taken from us our wealth, you must 
share with us the little we have left." This lady 
with her two daughters, who inherited her beauty 



212 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

and grace of manner, did all in their power to 
make me comfortable. 

Sunday was the coldest day of the season; but 
the family, whose hospitality I enjoyed, rode 
seven miles through the woods, some on horse- 
back, some in the carriage, to the little church 
in a heavy pine forest. The next day proved 
stormy, and the driving sleet froze upon the 
trees and bound their limbs and boughs together 
with an icy veneer. My host, Mr. McMillan, 
kindly urged me to tarry. During my stay with 
him I ascertained that he devoted his attention 
to raising ground-peas, or peanuts. Along the 
coast of this part of North Carolina this nut is 
the chief product, and is raised in immense 
quantities. The latter state alone raises annually 
over one hundred thousand bushels; while Vir- 
ginia and Tennessee produce, some years, a crop 
of seven hundred thousand bushels. 

Wednesday opened w^ith partially clearing 
weather, and the icy covering of the trees 
yielded to the softening influences of a southern 
wind. The family went to the landing to see 
me off, and the kind ladies stowed many delica- 
cies, made with their own hands, in the bow of 
the boat. After rowing a half-mile, I took a 
lingering look at the shore, where those who 
four days ago were strangers, now waved an 
adieu as friends. They had been stript of their 
wealth, though the kind old planter had never 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 213 

raised his hand against the government of his 
fathers. This family, like thousands of people 
in the south, had suffered for the rash deeds of 
others. While the political views of this gentle- 
man differed from those of the stranger from 
Massachusetts, it formed no barrier to their 
social intercourse, and did not make him forget 
to exhibit the warm feelings of hospitality which 
so largely influence the Southerner. I went to 
him, as a traveller in search of truth, upon an 
honest errand. Under such circumstances a 
Northerner does not require a letter of introduc- 
tion to nine out of ten of the citizens of the 
fifteen ex-slave states, which cover an area of 
eight hundred and eighty thousand square miles, 
and where fourteen millions of people desire to 
be permitted to enjoy the same privileges as the 
Constitution of the United States guarantees to 
all the states north of Mason and Dixon's line. 

From Sloop Landing, on my new friends' 
plantation, to New Topsail Inlet I had a brisk 
row of five miles. Vessels drawing eight feet of 
water can reach this landing from the open sea 
upon a full tide. The sea was rolling in at this 
ocean door as my canoe crossed it to the next 
marsh thoroughfare, which connected it with 
Old Topsail Inlet, where the same monotonous 
surroundings of sand-hills and marshes are to be 
found. 

The next tidal opening was Rich Inlet, which 



214 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

had a strong ebb running through it to the 
sea. From it I threaded the thoroughfares up 
to the mainland, reaching at dusk the " Emma 
Nickson Plantation." The creeks were growing 
more shallow, and near the bulkhead, or middle- 
ground, where tides from two inlets met, there 
was so little water and so many oyster reefs, that, 
without a chart, the route grew more and more 
perplexing in character. It was a distance of 
thirty miles to Cape Fear, and twenty miles 
to New Inlet, which was one of the mouths 
of Cape Fear River. From the plantation to 
New Inlet, the shallow interior sheets of water 
with their marshes were called Middle, Mason- 
boro, and Myrtle sounds. The canoe could 
have traversed these waters to the end of Myr- 
tle Sound, which is separated from Cape Fear 
River by a strip of land only one mile and a 
half wide, across which a portage can be made 
to the river. Barren and Masonboro are the only 
inlets which supply the three little sounds above 
mentioned with water, after Rich Inlet is passed. 
The coast from Cape Fear southward eighty 
miles, to Georgetown, South Carolina, has several 
small inlets through the beach, but there are no 
interior waters parallel with the coast in all that 
distance, which can be of any service to the 
canoeist for a coast route. It therefore became 
necessary for me to follow the next watercourse 
that could be utilized for reaching Winyah Bay, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 215 

which is the first entrance to the system of con- 
tinuous watercourses south of Cape Fear. 

The trees of the Nickson Plantation hid the 
house of the proprietor from view; but upon 
beaching my canoe, a drove of hogs greeted me 
with friendly grunts, as if the hospitality of their 
master infected the drove; and, as it grew dark, 
they trotted across the field, conducting me up 
to the very doors of the planter's home, where 
Captain Mosely, late of the Confederate army, 
gave me a soldier's hearty welcome. 

" The war is over," he said, " and any northern 
gentleman is welcome to what we have left." 
Until midnight, this keen-eyed, intelligent officer 
entertained me with a flow of anecdotes of the 
war times, his hair-breadth escapes, &c.; the 
conversation being only interrupted when he 
paused to pile wood upon the fire, the chimney- 
place meantime glowing like a furnace. He 
told me that Captain Mafhtt, of the late Confed- 
erate navy, lived at Masonboro, on the sound; 
and that had I called upon him, he could have 
furnished, as an old officer of the Coast Survey, 
much valuable geographical information. This 
pleasant conversation was at last interrupted 
by the wife of my host, who warned us in her 
courteous way of the lateness of the hour. With 
a good-night to my host, and a sad farewell 
to the sea, I prepared myself for the morrow's 
journey. 



2l6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER XI. 

FROM CAPE FEAR TO CHARLESTON, SOUTH 
CAROLINA. 

A PORTAGE TO LAKE WACCAMAW. — THE SUBMERGED SWAMPS. — 
NIGHT AT A TURPENTINE DISTILLERY. — A DISMAL WILDER- 
NESS. — OWLS AND MISTLETOE. — CRACKERS AND NEGROES. — 
ACROSS THE SOUTH CAROLINA LINE. — A CRACKER'S IDEA OF 
HOSPITALITY. — POT BLUFF. — PEEDEE RIVER. — GEORGETOWN. 
— WINYAH BAY. — THE RICE PLANTATIONS OF THE SANTEE 
RIVERS. — A NIGHT WITH THE SANTEE NEGROES. — ARRIVAL 
AT CHARLESTON. 

TO reach my next point of embarkation a 
portage was necessary. Wilmington was 
twelve miles distant, and I reached the railroad 
station of that city with my canoe packed in a 
bed of corn-husks, on a one-horse dray, in time 
to take the evening train to Flemington, on Lake 
Waccamaw. The polite general freight-agent, 
Mr. A. Pope, allowed my canoe to be transported 
in the passenger baggage-car, where, as it had 
no covering, I was obliged to steady it during 
the ride of thirty-two miles, to protect it from 
the friction caused by the motion of the train. 

Mr. Pope quietly telegraphed to the few families 
at the lake, "Take care of the paper canoe; " so 
when my destination was reached, kind voices 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 217 

greeted me through the darkness and offered me 
the hospitalities of Mrs. Brothers' home-like inn 
at the Flemington Station. After Mr. Carroll had 
conveyed the boat to his storehouse, we all sat 
down to tea as sociably as though we were old 
friends. 

On the morrow we carried the Maria Theresa 
on our shoulders to the little lake, out of which 
the long and crooked river with its dark cypress 
waters flowed to the sea. A son of Mr. Short, 
a landed proprietor who holds some sixty thou- 
sand acres of the swamp lands of the Waccamaw, 
escorted me in his yacht, with a party of ladies 
and gentlemen, five miles across the lake to my 
point of departure. It was now noon, and our 
little party picnicked under the lofty trees which 
rise from the low shores of Lake Waccamaw. 

A little later we said our adieu, and the paper 
canoe shot into the whirling current which rushes 
out of the lake through a narrow aperture into 
a great and dismal swamp. Before leaving the 
party, Mr. Carroll had handed me a letter ad- 
dressed to Mr. Hall, who was in charge of a 
turpentine distillery on my route. "It is twenty 
miles by the river to my friend Hall's," he said, 
"but in a straight line the place is just four 
miles from here." Such is the character of the 
Waccamaw, this most crooked of rivers. 

I had never been on so rapid and continuous 
a current. As it whirled me along the narrow 



2l8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

watercourse I was compelled to abandon my 
oars and use the paddle in order to have my face 
to the bow, as the abrupt turns of the stream 
seemed to wall me in on every side. Down 
the tortuous, black, rolling current went the 
paper canoe, with a giant forest covering the 
great swamp and screening me from the light 
of day. The swamps were submerged, and as 
the water poured out of the thickets into the 
river it would shoot across the land from one 
bend to another, presenting in places the mysti- 
fying spectacle of water running up stream, but 
not up an inclined plain. Festoons of gray 
Spanish moss hung from the weird limbs of 
monster trees, giving a funeral aspect to the 
gloomy forest, while the owls hooted as though 
it were night. The creamy, wax-like berries 
of the mistletoe gave a Druidical aspect to the 
woods, for this parasite grew upon the branches 
of many trees. 

One spot only of firm land rose from the water 
in sixteen miles of paddling from the lake, and 
passing it, I went flying on with the turbulent 
stream four miles further, to where rafts of logs 
blocked the river, and the sandy banks, covered 
with the upland forest of pines, encroached upon 
the lowlands. This was Old Dock, with its 
turpentine distillery smoking and sending out 
resinous vapors. 

Young Mr. Hall read my letter and invited 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 219 

me to his temporary home, which, though 
roughly built of unplaned boards, possessed two 
comfortable rooms, and a large fireplace, in 
which light-wood, the terebinthine heart of the 
pine-tree, was cheerfully blazing. 

I had made the twenty miles in three hours, 
but the credit of this quick time must be given 
to the rapid current. My host did not seem 
well pleased with the solitude imposed upon 
him. His employers had sent him from Wil- 
mington, to hold and protect " their turpentine 
farm," which was a wilderness of trees covering 
four thousand acres, and was valued, with its 
distillery, at five thousand dollars. An old 
negro, who attended the still and cooked the 
meals, was his only companion. 

We had finished our frugal repast, when a 
man, shouting in the darkness, approached the 
house on horseback. This individual, though 
very tipsy, represented Law and Order in that 
district, as I was informed when "Jim Gore," a 
justice of the peace, saluted me in a boisterous 
manner. Seating himself by the fire, he ear- 
nestly inquired for the bottle. His stomach, he 
said, was as dry as a lime-kiln, and, though wa- 
ter answers to slake lime, he demanded some- 
thing stronger to slake the fire that burned with- 
in him. He was very suspicious of me when 
Hall told him of my canoe journey. After 
eying me from head to toe in as steady a manner 



2 20 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

as he was capable of, he broke forth with: "Now, 
stranger, this won't do. What are ye a-travel- 
ling in this sort of way for, in a paper dug-outV" 

I pleaded a strong desire to study geography, 
but the wise fellow replied: 

"Geography! geography! Why, the fellers 
who rite geography never travel; they stay at 
home and spin their yarns 'bout things they 
never sees." Then, glancing at his poor butter- 
nut coat and pantaloons, he felt my blue woollen 
suit, and continued, in a slow, husky voice: 
" Stranger, them clothes cost something ', they 
be 5/(9re-clothes. That paper dug-out cost money ^ 
I tell ye; and it costs something to travel the hull 
length of the land. No, stranger; if ye be not 
on a bet, then somebody's a-paying ye ivell for it." 

For an hour I entertained this roughest of law 
dignitaries with an account of my long row, its 
trials and its pleasures. He became interested 
in the story, and finally related to me his own 
aspirations, and the difficulties attending his ef- 
forts to make the piny-woods people respect the 
laws and good government. He then described 
the river route through the swamps to the sea, 
and, putting his arm around me in the most affec- 
tionate manner, he mournfully said: 

"O stranger, my heart is with ye; but O, how 
ye will have to take it when ye go past those 
awful wretches to-morrow; how they will give 
it to ye! They most knocked me off my raft, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 221 

last time I went to Georgetown. Beware of 
them; I warn ye in time. Dern the hussies." 

Squire Jim so emphasized the danger that I 
became somewhat alarmed, for, more than any- 
thing else, I dreaded an outbreak with rough 
women. And then, too, my new acquaintance 
informed me that there were four or five of these 
wretches, of the worst kind, located several 
miles down the stream. As I was about to in- 
quire into the habits of these ugly old crones, 
Mr. Hall, wishing to give Squire James a hint, 
remarked that Mr. B might at any time re- 
tire to the next room, where half the bed was at 
his disposal. 

^'^ Half the bedV roared the squire; "here 
are three of us, and where's my half? " 

"Why, squire," hesitatingly responded my 

host, " Mr. B is my guest, and having but 

one bed, he must have half oi it — no less." 

"Then what's to become of me?" thundered 
his Majesty of the law. 

Having been informed that a shake-down 
would have been ready had he given notice of 
his visit, and that at some future time, when not 
so crowded, he could be entertained like a gen- 
tleman, he drew himself up, wrapped in the 
mantle of dignity, and replied: 

"None of that soft talk, my friend. This 
man is a traveller; let him take travellers' 
luck — three in a bed to-night. I'm bound 



222 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

to sleep with him to-night. Hall, where's the 
bottle?" 

I now retired to the back room, and, without 
undressing, planted myself on the side of the 
bed next the wall. Sleep was, however, an un- 
attainable luxury, with the squire's voice in the 
next room, as he told how the country was going 
to the dogs, because " niggers and white folks 
wouldn't respect the laws. It took half a man's 
time to lam it to 'em, and much thanks he ever 
got by setting everybody to rights." He wound 
up by lecturing Hall for being so temperate, 
his diligent search in all directions for bottles or 
jugs being rewarded by finding them filled with 
unsatisfactory emptiness. 

He then tumbled into the centre of the bed, 
crowding me close against the wall. Poor Hall, 
having the outside left to him, spent the night in 
exercising his brain and muscles in vain attempts 
to keep in his bed; for when his Majesty of the 
law put his arms akimbo, the traveller went to 
the wall, and the host to the floor. Thus passed 
my first night in the great swamps of the Wac- 
camaw River. 

The negro cook gave us an early breakfast of 
bacon, sweet potatoes, and corn bread. The 
squire again looked round for the bottle, and 
again found nothing but emptiness. He helped 
me to carry my canoe along the unsteady footing 
of the dark swamp to the lower side of the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 223 

raft of logs, and warmly pressed my hand as he 

whispered: "My dear B , I shall think of 

you until you get past those dreadful ^ wretches.' 
Keep an eye on your little boat, or they'll devil 
you." 

Propelled by my double paddle, the canoe 
seemed to fly through the great forest that rose 
with its tall trunks and weird, moss-draped 
arms, out of the water. The owls were still 
hooting. Indeed, the dolorous voice of this bird 
of darkness sounded through the heavy woods 
at intervals throughout the day. I seemed to 
have left the real world behind me, and to have 
entered upon a landless region of sky, trees, and 
water. 

" Beware of the cut-offs," said Hall, before I 
left. " Only the Crackers and shingle-makers 
know them. If followed, they would save you 
many a mile, but every opening through the 
swamp is not a cut-off". Keep to the main 
stream, though it be more crooked and longer. 
If you take to the cut-oflfs, you may get into 
passages that will lead you off" into the swamps 
and into interior bayous, from which you will 
never emerge. Men have starved to death in 
such places." 

So I followed the winding stream, which 
turned back upon itself, running north and south, 
and east and west, as if trying to box the com- 
pass by following the sun in its revolution. After 



224 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

paddling down one bend, I could toss a stick 
through the trees into the stream where the canoe 
had cleaved its waters a quarter of a mile be- 
hind me. 

The thought of what I should do in this land- 
less region if my frail shell, in its rapid flight to 
the sea, happened to be pierced by a snag, was, 
to say the least, not a comforting one. On what 
could I stand to repair it? To climb a tree 
seemed, in such a case, the only resource; and 
then what anxious waiting there would be for 
some cypress-shingle maker, in his dug-out ca- 
noe, to come to the rescue, and take the traveller 
from his dangferous lod2:ino:s between heaven and 
earth; or it might be that no one would pass that 
way, and the weary waiting would be even unto 
death. 

But sounds now reached my ears that made 
me feel that I was not quite alone in this desolate 
swamp. The gray squirrels scolded among the 
tree-tops; robins, the brown thrush, and a large 
black woodpecker with his bright red head, 
each reminded me of Him without whose notice 
not a sparrow falleth to the ground. 

Ten miles of this black current were passed 
over, when the first signs of civilization appeared, 
in the shape of a sombre-looking, two-storied 
house, located upon a point of the mainland 
which entered the swamp on the left shore of 
the river. At this point the river widened to five 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 225 

or six rods, and at intervals land appeared a few 
inches above the water. Wherever the pine 
land touched the river a pig-pen of rails offered 
shelter and a gathering-place for the hogs, 
which are turned loose by the white Cracker 
to feed upon the roots and mast of the wilder- 
ness. 

Reeve's Ferry, on the right bank, with a little 
store and turpentine-still, twenty miles from Old 
Dock, was the next sign of the presence of man 
in this swamp. The river now became broad as 
I approached Piraway Ferry, which is two miles 
below Piraway Farm. Remembering the warn- 
ings of the squire as to the " awful wretches in 
the big pine woods," I kept a sharp lookout for 
the old women who were to give me so much 
trouble, but the raftsmen on the river explained 
that though Jim Gore had told me the truth, I 
had misunderstood his pronunciation of the word 
reaches^ or river bends, which are called in 
this vicinity ivreiches. The reaches referred to 
by Mr. Gore were so long and straight as to 
afford open passages for wind to blow up them, 
and these fierce gusts of head winds give the 
raftsmen much trouble while poling their rafts 
against them. 

My fears of ill treatment were now at rest, for 
my tiny craft, with her sharp-pointed bow, was 
well adapted for such work. Landing at the 
ferry where a small scow or flat-boat was resting 

15 



226 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

upon the firm land, the ferryman, Mr. Daniel 
Diinkin, would not permit me to camp out of 
doors while his log-cabin was only one mile 
away on the pine-covered uplands. He told me 
that the boundary-line between North and South 
Carolina crossed this swamp three and a half 
miles below Piraway Ferry, and that the first 
town on the river Waccamaw, in South Carolina, 
Conwayborough, was a distance of ninety miles 
by river and only thirty miles by land. There 
was but one bridge over the river, from its head 
to Conwayborough, and it was built by Mr. 
James Wortham, twenty years before, for his 
plantation. This bridge was twenty miles below 
Piraway, and from it by land to a settlement on 
Little River, which empties into the Atlantic, 
was a distance of only five miles. A short canal 
would connect this river and its lumber regions 
with Little River and the sea. 

For the first time in my experience as a trav- 
eller I had entered a country where the miles 
were short. When fifteen years old I made my 
first journey alone and on foot from the vicinity 
of Boston to the White Mountains of New 
Hampshire. This boyish pedestrian trip occu- 
pied about twenty-one days, and covered some 
three hundred miles of hard tramping. New 
England gives honest measure on the finger- 
posts along her highways. The traveller learns 
by well-earned experience the length of her 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 227 

miles; but in the wilderness of the south there 
is no standard of five thousand two hundred and 
eighty feet to a statute mile, and the watermen 
along the sea-coast are ignorant of the fact that 
one-sixtieth of a degree of latitude (about six 
thousand and eighty feet) is the geographical 
and nautical mile of the cartographer, as well 
as the " knot" of the sailor. 

At Piraway Ferry no two of the raftsmen and 
lumbermen, ignorant or educated, would give the 
same distance, either upon the lengths of surveyed 
roads or unmeasured rivers. " It is one hundred 
and sixty-five miles by river from Piraway Ferry 
to Conwayborough," said one who had travelled 
the route for years. The most moderate estimate 
made was that of ninety miles b}^ river. The 
reader, therefore, must not accuse me of over- 
stating distances while absent from the seaboard, 
as my friends of the Coast Survey Bureau have 
not yet penetrated into these interior regions with 
their theodolites, plane-tables, and telametre- 
rods. To the canoeist, who is ambitious to score 
up miles instead of collecting geographical notes, 
these wild rivers afford an excellent opportunity 
to satisfy his aims. 

From sixty to eighty miles can be rowed in 
ten hours as easily as forty miles can be gone 
over upon a river of slow current in the nor- 
thern states. There is, I am sorry to say, 
a class of American travellers who " do'''' all the 



228 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

capitals of Europe in the same business-like way, 
and if they have anything to say in regard to 
every-day life in the countries through which 
they pass, they forget to thank the compiler of 
the guide-book for the information they possess. 

There was but one room in the cabin of my 
new acquaintance, who represented that class of 
piny-woods people called in the south — because 
they subsist largely upon corn, — Corn Crackers, 
or Crackers. These Crackers are the " poor white 
folks " of the planter, and " de white trash " of 
the old slave, who now as a freedman is begin- 
ning to feel the responsibility of his position. 

These Crackers are a very kind-hearted people, 
but few of them can read or write. The children 
of the negro, filled with curiosity and a new- 
born pride, whenever opportunity permits, at- 
tend the schools in large numbers; but the very 
indolent white man seems to be destitute of all 
ambition, and his children, in many places in the 
south, following close in the father's footsteps, 
grow up in an almost unimaginable ignorance. 

The news of the arrival of the little Maria 
Theresa at Piraway Ferry spread with astonish- 
ing rapidity through the woods, and on Sunday, 
after " de shoutings," as the negroes call their 
meetings, were over, the blacks came in num- 
bers to see " dat Yankee-man's paper canno." 

These simple people eyed me from head to foot 
with a grave sort of curiosity, their great mouths 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 229 

open, dlspla3nng pearly teeth of which a white 
man might well be proud. "You is a good man, 
capt'n — we knows dat," they said; and when I 
asked why, the answer showed their childlike 
faith. " 'Cause you couldn't hab come all dis 
way in a -paper boat if de Lord hadn't helped 
you. He dono help only good folks." 

The Cracker also came with his children to 
view the wonder, while the raftsmen were so 
struck with the advantages of my double paddle, 
which originated with the inhabitants of the 
Arctic regions, that they laid it upon a board and 
drew its outlines with chalk. They vowed they 
would introduce it upon the river. 

These Crackers declared it would take more 
than " de shoutings," or any other religious 
service, to improve the moral condition of 
the blacks. They openly accused the colored 
preachers of disturbing the nocturnal rest of 
their hens and turkeys; and as to hog-stealing 
and cow-killing, "Why, we won't have any crit- 
ters left ef this carpet-bag government lasts much 
longer! " they feelingly exclaimed. 

" We does nothing to nobody. We lets the 
niggers alone; but niggers will steal — they can't 
help it, the poor devils; it's in 'em. Now, ef they 
eats us out of house and home, what can a poor 
man do? They puts 'em up for justices of peace, 
and sends 'em to the legislature, when they can't 
read more'n us; and they do say it's 'cause we 



230 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

fit in the Confederate sarvice that they razes the 
nigger over our heads. Now, does the folkes up 
north like to see white people tyrannized over 
by niggers? Jes tell 'em when you go back, 
stranger, that we's got soulds like yours up 
north, and we's got feelings too, by thunder! jes 
like other white men. This was a white man's 
country once — now it's all niggers and dogs. 
Why, them niggers in the legislature has spit- 
boxes lined with gold to spit in! What's this 
country a-coming to? We wish the niggers no 
harm if they lets our hogs and chickens alone." 

After this tirade it was amusing to see how 
friendly the whites and blacks were. The Crack- 
ers conversed with these children of Ham, who 
had been stealing their hams for so long a time, 
in the most kindly way, realizing, perhaps, that 
they had various peculiar traits of their own, and 
must, after all, endure their neighbors. 

A traveller should place facts before his read- 
ers, and leave to them the drawing of the moral. 
Northern men and women who go to the south- 
ern states and reside for even the short space of 
a year or two, invariably change their life-long 
views and principles regarding the negro as a 
moral and social creature. When these people 
return to their homes in Maine or Massachusetts 
(as did the representatives of the Granges of the 
northern states after they had visited South Caro- 
lina in 1875) a new light, derived from contact 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 23 1 

with facts, dawns upon them, while their sur- 
prised and untravelled neighbors say: ^^ So you 
have become Southe7'7i in your views. I never 
would have thought that of yoic^ 

The railroad has become one of the great me- 
diums of enlightenment to mankind, and joins in 
a social fraternity the disunited elements of a 
country. God grant that the resources of the 
great South may soon be developed by the capi- 
tal and free labor of the North. Our sister states 
of the South, exhausted by the struggles of the 
late war which resulted in consolidating more 
firmly than ever the great Union, are now ready 
to receive every honest effort to develop their 
wealth or cultivate their territory. Let every 
national patriot give up narrowness of views and 
sectional selfishness and become acquainted with 
(not the politicians) the people of the New 
South, and a harmony of feeling will soon pos- 
sess the hearts of all true lovers of a government 
of the people. 

The swamp tributaries were swelling the river 
into a very rapid torrent as I paddled away from 
the ferry on Monday, January i8. A warmer 
latitude having been reached, I could dispense 
with one blanket, and this I had presented to my 
kind host, who had refused to accept payment 
for his hospitality. He was very proud of his 
present, and said, feelingly, " No one shall touch 
this but me." His good wife had baked some 



232 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

of a rich and very nice variety of sweet-potatoes, 
unlike those we get in New Jersey or the other 
Middle States — which potatoes she kindly added 
to my stores. They are not dry or mealy when 
cooked, but seem saturated with honey. The 
poor woman's gift now occupied the space for- 
merly taken up by the blanket I had given her 
husband. 

From this day, as latitude after latitude was 
crossed on my way southward, I distributed 
every article I could spare, among these poor, 
kind-hearted people. Mr. McGreggor went in 
his Rob Roy canoe over the rivers of Europe, 
" diffusing cheerfulness and distributing Evangel- 
ical tracts." I had no room for tracts, and if I 
had followed the example of my well-inten- 
tioned predecessor in canoeing, it would have 
served the cause of truth or creed but little. 
The Crackers could not read, and but few of 
the grown negroes had been taught letters. 
They did not want books, but tobacco. Men 
and women hailed me from the banks as I glided 
along in my canoe, with, " Say, captain, hab you 
eny 'bacca or snuff for dis chile?" Poor hu- 
manity! The Cracker and the freedman fill 
alike their places according to the light they 
possess. Do we, who have been taught from 
our youth sacred things, do more than this? 
Do we love our neighbor as ourself ? 

For twenty miles (local authority) I journeyed 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 233 

down the stream, without seeing a human being 
or a dwelling-place, to Stanley's house and the 
bridge; from which I urged the canoe thirty-five 
miles further, passing an old field on a bluff, 
when darkness settled on the swamps, and a 
heavy mist rose from the waters and enveloped 
the forests in its folds. With not a trace of land 
above water I groped about, running into what 
appeared to be openings in the submerged land, 
only to find my canoe tangled in thickets. It 
was useless to go further, and I prepared to 
ascend to the forks of a giant tree, with a light 
rope, to be used for lashing my body into a safe 
position, when a long, low cry engaged my at- 
tention. 

"Waugh! ho! ho! ho! peig — peig — pe-ig — 
pe-ig," came through the still, thick air. It was 
not an owl, nor a catamount that cried thus; nor 
was it the bark of a fox^ It was the voice of a 
Cracker calling in his hog^s from the forest. 
This sound was indeed pleasant to my ears, 
for I knew the upland was near, and that a 
warm fire awaited my benumbed limbs in the 
cabin of this unknown man. Pushing the canoe 
towards the sound, and feeling the submerged 
border of the swamp with my paddle, I struck 
the upland where it touched the water, and dis- 
embarking, felt my way along a well-trodden 
path to a little clearing. Here a drove of hogs 
were crowding around their owner, who was 



234 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

scatterinof kernels of corn about him as he vo- 
ciferated, " pe-ig — pe-ig — pe-ig — pig — pig — 
pig." We stood foce to face, yet neither could 
see the face of the other in the darkness. I told 
my tale, and asked where I could find a sheltered 
spot to camp. 

" Stranger," slowly replied the Cracker, " my 
cabin 's close at hand. Come home with me. 
It's a bad night for a man to lay out in; and the 
niggers would steal your traps if they knew you 
had anything worth taking. Come with me." 

In the tall pines near at hand was a cabin of 
peeled rails, the chinks between them being 
stuffed with moss. A roof of cypress shingles 
kept the rain out. The log chimney, which was 
plastered with mud, was built outside of the 
walls and against an end of the rustic-looking 
structure. The wide-mouthed fireplace sent 
forth a blaze of light as we entered the poor 
man's home. I saw in the nicely swept floor, 
the clean bed-spreads, and the general neatness 
of the place, the character of Wilson Edge's 
wife. 

" Hog and hominy 's our food here in the piny 
woods," said Mr. Edge, as his wife invited us to 
the little table; " and we've a few eggs now and 
then to eat with sweet potatoes, but it's up-hill 
work to keep the niggers from killing every fowl 
and animal we have. The carpet-bag politicians 
promised them every one, for his vote, forty acres 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 235 

of land and a mule. They sed as how the 
northern government was a-going to give it to 
um; but the poor devils never got any thanks 
even for their votes. They had been stuffed 
with all sorts of notions by the carpet-baggers, 
and I don't blame um for putting on airs and 
trying to rule us. It's human natur, that's all. 
We don't blame the niggers half so much as 
those who puts it in their heads to do so; but it's 
hard times we've had, we poor woods folks. 
They took our children for the cussed war, to 
fight fur niggers and rich people as owned um. 

^^ We never could find out what all the fuss 
was about; but when Jeff Davis made a law to 
exempt every man from the army who owned 
fifteen niggers, then our blood riz right up, 
and we sez to our neighbors, ^ This ere thing's 
a-getting to be a rich man's quarrel and a poor 
man's fight.' After all they dragged off* my boy 
to Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, and killed him 
a fighting for what? Why, for rich nigger 
owners. Our young men hid in the swamps, 
but they were hunted up and forced into the 
army. Niggers has been our ruin. Ef a white 
man takes a case before a nigger justice, he 
gives the nigger everything, and the white man 
has to stand one side. Now, would you folks up 
north like to have a nigger justice who can't 
read nor count ten figgurs?" 

I tried to comfort the poor man, by assuring 



236 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

him that outside of the political enemies of our 
peace, the masses in the north were honestly 
inclined towards the south now that slavery 
was at an end; and that wrong could not long 
prevail, with the cheerful prospect of a new 
administration, and the removal of all unconsti- 
tutional forces that preyed upon the south. 

The two beds in the single room of the cabin 
were occupied by the family; while I slept upon 
the floor by the hre, with my blankets for a 
couch and a roll of homespun for a pillow, 
which the women called " heading^ They 
often said, " Let me give you some heading for 
your bed." We waited until eight o'clock the 
next day for the mists to rise from the swamps. 
My daily trouble was now upon me. How could 
I remunerate a southerner for his cost of keep- 
ing me, when not. In the true sense of the word, 
an invited guest to his hospitality? 

Wilson Edge sat by the fire, while his wife 
and little ones were preparing to accompany me 
to see the paper boat. "Mr. Edge," I stam- 
mered, "you have treated me with great kind- 
ness, your wife has been put to some inconven- 
ience, as I came in so unexpected a manner, and 
you will really oblige me if you will accept a 
little money for all this; though money cannot 
pay for your hospitality. Grant my wish, and 
you will send me away with a light heart." 
The poor Cracker lowered his head and slowly 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 237 

ran his fingers through his coal black hair. For 
a moment he seemed studying a reply, and then 
he spoke as though he represented the whole 
generous heart of the south. 

^^ St ranger,'''' he slowly articulated, ^^ Stranger, 
I have known white men to be niggers enough 
to take a st7'anger^s money for lodgings and 
vittles, but I am- not that man.'''' 

We found the canoe as it had been left the 
night before, and I was soon pulling down the 
river. The great wilderness w\as traversed thirty 
miles to the county town of Conwayborough, 
where the negroes roared with laughter at the 
working of the double paddle, as I shot past the 
landing-place where cotton and naval stores 
were piled, w^aiting to be lightered nine miles to 
Pot Bluff, — so called from the fact of a pot 
being lost from a vessel near it, — which place 
is reached by vessels from New York drawing 
twelve feet of water. Though still a long dis- 
tance from the ocean, I was beginning to feel its 
tidal influences. At Pot Bluff, the landing and 
comfortable home of its owner, Mr. Z. W. Du- 
senberry, presented a pleasant relief after the 
monotony of the great pine forests. This enter- 
prising business man made my short stay a very 
pleasant one. 

Wednesday, January 20th, was cold for this 
latitude, and ice formed in thin sheets in the 
water-pails. Twenty-two miles below Pot Bluff, 



238 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Bull Creek enters the Waccamaw from the Pee- 
dee River. At the mouth of this connecting 
watercourse is Tip Top, the first rice plantation 
of the Waccamaw. The Peedee and its sister 
stream run an almost parallel course from Bull 
Creek to Winyah Bay, making their debouchure 
close to the city of Georgetown. Steam saw- 
mills and rice plantations take the place of the 
forests from a few miles below Tip Top to the 
vicinity of Georgetown. 

Mr. M. L. Blakely, of New York, one of the 
largest shingle manufacturers of the south, occu- 
pied as his headquarters the Bates Hill Planta- 
tion, on the Peedee. This gentleman had invited 
me, through the medium of the post-office, to 
visit him in the rice-growing regions of South 
Carolina. To reach his home I took the short 
"cut-off" which Bull Creek offered, and entered 
upon the strongest of head-currents. The thick, 
yellow, muddy torrent of the Peedee rushed 
through Bull Creek with such volume, that I 
wondered if it left much water on the other side, 
to give character to the river, as it followed its 
own channel to Winyah Bay. 

One and a half miles of vigorous paddling 
brought me to a branch of the watercourse, 
which is much narrower than the main one, and 
is consequently called Little Bull Creek. This 
also comes from the Peedee River, and its source 
is nearer to the Bates Hill plantation than the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 239 

main Bull Creek. To urge the canoe up this 
narrow stream three miles and a half to the 
parent river Peedee, was a most trying ordeal. 
At times the boat would not move a hundred 
feet in five minutes, and often, as my strength 
seemed failing me, I caught the friendly branches 
of trees, and held on to keep the canoe from 
being whirled down the current towards the 
Waccamaw. After long and persistent efforts 
had exhausted my strength, I was about to seek 
for a resting-place in the swamp, when a viev^ 
of the broad Peedee opened before me, and with 
vigorous strokes of the paddle the canoe slowly 
approached the mighty current. A moment 
more and it was within its grasp, and went flying 
down the turbulent stream at the rate of ten 
miles an hour. 

A loud halloo greeted me from the swamp, 
where a party of negro shingle-makers were at 
work. They manned their boat, a long cypress 
dug-out, and followed me. Their employer, who 
proved to be the gentleman whose abiding-place 
I was now rapidly approaching, sat in the stern. 
We landed together before the old plantation- 
house, which had been occupied a few years 
before by members of the wealthy and powerful 
rice-planting aristocracy of the Peedee, but was 
now the temporary home of a northern man, 
who was busily employed in guiding the labors 



240 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

of his four hundred freedmen in the swamps of 
North and South Carolina. 

The paper canoe had now entered the regions 
of the rice-planter. Along the low banks of the 
Peedee were diked marshes where, before the 
civil war, each estate produced from five thou- 
sand to forty thousand bushels of rice annually, 
and the lords of rice were more powerful than 
those of cotton, though cotton was king. The 
rich lands here produced as high as fifty-five 
bushels of rice to the acre, under forced slave 
labor; now the free blacks cannot wrest from 
nature more than twenty-five or thirty bushels. 

Fine old mansions lined the rivers banks, but 
the families had been so reduced by the ravages 
of war, that I saw refined ladies, who had been 
educated in the schools of Edinburgh, Scotland, 
overseeing the negroes as they worked in the 
yards of the rice-mills. The undaunted spirit of 
these southern ladies, as they worked in their 
homes now so desolate, roused my admiration. 

A light, graceful figure, enveloped in an old 
shawl, and mounted on an old horse, flitted about 
one plantation like a restless spirit. 

" That lady's father," said a gentleman to me, 
"owned three plantations, worth three millions 
of dollars, before the war. There is a rice-mill 
on one of the plantations which cost thirty thou- 
sand dollars. She now fights against misfortune, 
and will not give up. The Confederate war 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 24 I 

would not have lasted six months if it had not 
been for our women. They drove thousands of 
us young men into the fight; and now, having 
lost all, they go bravely to work, even taking the 
places of their old servants in their grand old 
homes. It's hard for them, though, I assure 
you." 

On Tuesday, January 25th, I paddled down the 
Peedee, stopping at the plantations of Dr. Wes- 
ton and Colonel Benjamin Allston. The latter 
gentleman was a son of one of the governors of 
South Carolina. He kindly gave me a letter of 
introduction to Commodore Richard Lowndes, 
who lived near the coast. From the Peedee I 
passed through a cut in the marshes into the 
broad Waccamaw, and descended it to Winyah 
Bay. 

Georgetown is located between the mouths of 
the Peedee and Sampit rivers. Cautiously ap- 
proaching the city, I landed at Mr. David Ris- 
ley's steam saw-mills, and that gentleman kindly 
secreted my boat in a back counting-room, while 
I went up town to visit the post-office. By some, 
to me, unaccountable means, the people had 
heard of the arrival of the paper boat, and three 
elaborately dressed negro women accosted me 
with, " Please show wees tree ladies de little 
paper boat." 

Before I had reached my destination, the post- 
office, a body of men met me, on their way to 
16 



242 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the steam-mill. The crowd forced me back to 
the canoe, and asked so many questions that I 
was sorely taxed to find answers for these gen- 
tlemen. There were three editors in the crowd: 
two were white men, one a negro. The young 
men, who claimed the position of representatives 
of the spirit of the place and of the times, pub- 
lished " The Comet," while the negro, as though 
influenced by a spirit of sarcasm, conducted 
"The Planet." The third newspaper repre- 
sented at the canoe reception was the " George- 
town Times," which courteously noticed the 
little boat that had come so far. The " Planet " 
prudently kept in the dark, and said nothing, but 
" The Comet," representing the culture of the 
young men of the city, published the following 
notice of my arrival: 

" Tom Collins has at last arrived in his won- 
derful paper boat. He has it hitched to Mr. 
Risley's new saw-mill, where every one can 
have a view. He intends shooting off his six- 
pounder before weighing anchor in the morning. 
Hurrah for Collins." 

I left Mr. Risley's comfortable home before 
noon the next day, and followed the shores of 
Winyah Bay towards the sea. Near Battery 
White, on the right shore, in the pine forests, 
was the birth-place of Marion, the brave patriot 
of the American revolution, whose bugle's call 
summoned the youth of those da3^s to arms. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 243 

When near the inlet, the rice-plantation 
marshes skirted the shore for some distance. 
Out of these wet lands flowed a little stream, 
called Mosquito Creek, which once connected 
the North Santee River with Winyah Bay, and 
served as a boundary to South Island. The 
creek was very crooked, and the ebb-tide strong. 
When more than halfway to Santee River I was 
forced to leave the stream, as it had become 
closed by tidal deposits and rank vegetation. 

The ditches of rice plantations emptied their 
drainage of the lowlands into Mosquito Creek. 
Following a wide ditch to the right, through fields 
of rich alluvial soil, which had been wrested by 
severe toil from nature, the boat soon reached 
the rice-mill of Commodore Richard Lowndes. 
A little further on, and situated in a noble grove 
of live-oaks, which were draped in the weird 
festoons of Spanish moss, on the upland arose 
the stately home of the planter, who still kept his 
plantation in cultivation, though on a scale of less 
magnitude than formerly. It was, indeed, a pleas- 
ant evening that I passed in the company of the 
refined members of the old commodore's house- 
hold, and with a pang of regret the next day I 
paddled along the main canal of the lowlands, 
casting backward glances at the old house, with 
its grand old trees. The canal ended at North 
Santee Bay. 

While I was preparing to ascend the river a 



244 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

tempest arose, which kept me a weary prisoner 
among the reeds of the rice marsh. The hollow 
reeds made poor fuel for cooking, and when the 
dark, stormy night shut down upon me, the damp 
soil grew damper as the tide arose, until it threat- 
ened to overflow the land. For hours I lay in my 
narrow canoe waiting for the tidal flood to do its 
worst, but it receded, and left me without any 
means of building a fire, as the reeds were wet 
by the storm. The next afternoon, being tired 
of this sort of prison-life, and cramped for lack 
of exercise, I launched the canoe into the rough 
water, and crossing to Crow Island found a lee 
under its shores, which permitted me to ascend 
the river to the mouth of Atchison Creek, through 
which I passed, two miles, to the South Santee 
River. 

All these rivers are bordered by rice planta- 
tions, many of them having been abandoned to 
the care of the freedmen. I saw no white men 
upon them. Buildings and dikes are falling into 
ruins, and the river freshets frequently inundate the 
land. Many of the owners of these once valuable 
estates are too much reduced in wealth to attempt 
their proper cultivation. It is in any case dif- 
ficult to get the freedmen to work through an 
entire season, even when well paid for their ser- 
vices, and they flock to the towns whenever 
opportunity permits. 

The North and South Santee rivers empty into 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 245 

the Atlantic, but their entrances are so shallow 
that Georgetown Entrance is the inlet through 
which most of the produce of the country — 
pitch, tar, turpentine, rice, and lumber — finds 
exit to the sea. As I left the canal, which, with 
the creek, makes a complete thoroughfare for 
lighters and small coasters from one Santee River 
to the other, a renewal of the tempest made me 
seek shelter in an old cabin in a negro settlement, 
each house of which was built upon piles driven 
into the marshes. The old negro overseer of the 
plantation hinted to me that his " hands were 
berry spicious of ebbry stranger," and advised me 
to row to some other locality. I told him I was 
from the north, and would not hurt even one of 
the fleas which in multitudes infested his negroes' 
quarters; but the old fellow shook his head, and 
would not be responsible for me if I staid there 
all night. A tall darkey, who had listened to the 
conversation, broke in with, " Now", uncle, 3'e 
knows dat if dis gemmum is from de norf he is 
one of wees, and ye must dii fur him jis dis 
time." But " Uncle Overseer " kept repeating, 
" Some niggers here is mity spicious. Du not 
no who white man is anyhow." "Well, uncle," 
replied the tall black, " ef dis man is a Yankee- 
mans, Ise will see hxxnfrooP 

Then he questioned me, while the fleas, hav- 
ing telegraphed to each other that a stranger had 
arrived^ made sad havoc of me and my patience. 



246 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

" My name's Jacob Gilleu; what's yourn? " I 
gave it. "Whar's your home?" came next. "I 
am a citizen of the United States," I replied. 
" De 'Nited States — whar's dat? neber hurd 
him afore," said Jacob Gilleu. Having in- 
formed him it was the land which General Grant 
governed, he exclaimed : " O, you's a Grant man ; 
all rite den; you is one of wees — all de same as 
wees. Den look a-here, boss. I send you to one 
good place on Alligator Creek, whar Seba Gil- 
lings libs. He black man, but he treat you jes 
like white man." 

Jacob helped me launch my boat through the 
soft mud, which nearly stalled us; and following 
his directions I paddled across the South Santee 
and coasted down to Alligator Creek, where ex- 
tensive marshes, covered by tall reeds, hid the 
landscape from my view. About half a mile 
from the mouth of the creek, which watercourse 
was on my direct route to Bull's Bay, a large 
tide-gate was found at the mouth of a canal. 
This being wide open, I pushed up the canal to 
a low point of land which rose like an island out 
of the rushes. Here was a negro hamlet of a 
dozen houses, or shanties, and the ruins of a 
rice-mill. The majority of the negroes were 
absent working within the diked enclosures of 
this large estate, which before the war had pro- 
duced forty thousand bushels of rice annually. 
Now the place was leased by a former slave, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 247 

and but little work was accomplished under the 
present management. 

Seba Gillings, a powerfully built negro, came 
to the dike upon which I had landed the canoe. 
I quickly told him my story, and how I had been 
forced to leave the last negro quarters. I used 
Jacob Gilleu's name as authority for seeking 
shelter with him from the damps of the half- 
submerged lands. The dignified black man bade 
me " fear nuffing, stay here all de night, long's 
you please; treat you like white man. I'se 
mity poor, but gib you de berry best I hab." 
He locked my boat in a rickety old storehouse, 
and gave me to understand " dat niggers will 
steal de berry breff from a man's mouff." 

He took me to his home, and soon showed me 
how he managed " de niggers." His wife sat 
silently by the fire. He ordered her to "pound 
de rice;" and she threw a quantity of unhulled 
rice into a wooden mortar three feet high planted 
in the ground in front of the shanty. Then, with 
an enormous pestle, the black woman pounded 
the grains until the hulls were removed, when, 
seating herself upon the floor of the dark, smoky 
cabin, she winnowed the rice with her breath, 
while her long, slim fingers caught and removed 
all the specks of dirt from the mass. It was 
cooked as the Chinese cook it — not to a glu- 
tinous mass, as we of the north prepare it — but 
each grain was dry and entire. Then eggs and 



248 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

bacon were prepared; not by the woman, but by 
the son, a lad of fourteen years. 

All these movements were superintended by 
old Seba, who sat looking as dark and as solemn 
and as learned as an associate judge on the 
bench of a New Jersey county court. On the 
blackest of tables, minus a cloth, the well-cooked 
food was placed for the stranger. As soon as 
my meal was finished, every member of the fam- 
ily made a dash for the fragments, and the board 
was cleared in a wonderfully short space of time. 

Then we gathered round the great, black- 
mouthed fireplace, and while the bright coals of 
live-oak spread a streak of light through the 
darkness, black men and black women stole into 
the room until everything from floor to ceiling, 
from door to chimney-place, seemed to be grow- 
ing blacker and blacker, and I felt as black as 
my surroundings. The scant clothing of the 
men only half covered their shiny, ebony skins. 
The whole company preserved a dignified si- 
lence, which was occasionally broken by deep 
sighs coming from the women in reply to a half- 
whispered " All de way from de norf in a -paper 
canno — bless de Lord! bless de Lord! " 

This dull monotony was broken by the en- 
trance of a young negro who, having made a 
passage in a sloop to Charleston through Bull's 
Ba}^, was looked upon as a great traveller, and 
to him were referred disputes upon nautical mat- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 249 

ters. He had not yet seen the boat, but he pro- 
ceeded to tell the negroes present all about it. 
He first bowed to me with a " How'dy, how'dy, 
cap'n," and then struck an attitude in the middle 
of the floor. Upon this natural orator Seba Gil- 
lings' dignity had no effect — was he not a trav- 
elled man? 

His exordium was: " How fur you cum, sar? " 
I replied, about fourteen hundred miles. "Four- 
teen hundred miles!" he roared; " duz you 
knows how much dat is, honnies? it's jes one 
tousand four hundred miles." All the women 
groaned out, "Bless de Lord! bless de Lord!" 
and clapped their shrivelled hands in ecstasy. 

The little black tried to run his fingers through 
his short, woolly hair as he continued: "What is 
dis yere world a-coming to? Now, yous ere 
folks, did ye's eber hear de likes o' dis — a 
■paper boat? " To which the crones replied, 
clapping their hands, "Bless de Lord! bless de 
Lord! Only the Yankee-mens up norf can 
make de paper hoats. Bless de Lord!" 

" And what," continued the orator, " and what 
will the Yankce-mens do next? Dey duz ebery 
ting. Can de}^ bring a man back agen? Can 
dey bring a man back to bref?" "No! no!" 
howled the women; "only de Lord can bring a 
man back agen — no Yankee-mens can do dat. 
Bless de Lord ! bless de Lord ! " "And what sent 
dis Yankee-man one tousand four hundred miles 



250 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

In his fafer boat?" "De Lord! de Lord! 
bless de Lord ! " shouted the now highly excited 
women, violently striking the palms of their 
hands together. 

"And why," went on this categorical negro, 
" did de Lord send him down souf in de -paper 
boat?" "Kase he couldn't hab cum in 6.0. paper 
boat ef de Lord hadn't a-sent him. O, bless de 
Lord! bless de Lord!" "And what duz he call 
his paper boat?" "Maria Theresa," I replied. 
" Maria Truss Her," cried the orator. " He calls 
her Maria Truss Her. Berry good, berry good 
name; kase he truss his life in her ebry day, and 
dat's why he calls his little boat Truss Her. 
Yes, de Yankee-mans makes de gunboats and 
de paper boats. Has de gemmin from de norf 
any bacca for dis yere chile?" 

As the women had become very piously in- 
clined, and were in just the state of nervous 
excitement to commence " de shoutings," old 
Uncle Seba rudely informed them that "de Yan- 
kee-mans wants sleep," and cleared the room of 
the crowd, to my great relief, for the state of the 
atmosphere was beyond description. Seba had 
a closet where he kept onions, muskrat skins, 
and other pieces of personal propert3\ He now 
set his wife to sweeping it out,' and I spread my 
clean blankets with a sigh upon the black floor, 
knowing I should carry away in the morning more 
than I had brought into Seba's dwelling. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 25 1 

I will not now expatiate upon the small annoy- 
ances of travel; but to the canoeist who may 
follow the southern watercourses traversed by 
the paper canoe, I would quietly say, " Keep 
away from cabins of all kinds, and you will by 
so doing travel with a light heart and even 
temper." 

When I cast up my account with old Seba 
the next morning, he said that by trading the 
rice he raised he could obtain "bout ebbry ting 
he wanted, 'cept rum." Rum was his medicine. 
So long as he kept a little stowed away, he 
admitted he was often sick. Having been desti- 
tute of cash, and consequently of rum for some 
time, he acknowledged his state of health re- 
markable; and he was a model of strength and 
manly development. All the other negroes were 
dwarfish-looking specimens, while their hair was 
so very short that it gave them the appearance 
of being bald. 

When the canoe was taken out of the store- 
house to be put into the canal, these half-naked, 
ebony-skinned creatures swarmed about it like 
bees. Not a trace of white blood could be de- 
tected in them. Each tried to put a finger upon 
the boat. They seemed to regard it as a Fetich; 
and, I believe, had it been placed upon an end 
they would have bowed down and paid their 
African devotions to it. Only the oldest ones 
could speak English well enough to be under- 



252 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

stood. The youths chattered in African tongue, 
and wore talismans about their necks. They 
were, to say the least, verging on barbarism. 
The experience gathered among the blacks of 
other lands impressed me with the well-founded 
belief, that in more than one place in the south 
would the African Fetich be set up and wor- 
shipped before long, unless the church bestirs 
herself to look well to her home missions. 

In all my travels, outside of the cities, in the 
south it has not been my good fortune to find an 
educated white man preaching to negroes, yet 
everywhere the poor blacks gather in the log- 
cabin, or rudely constructed church, to listen to 
ignorant preachers of their own color. The 
blind leading the blind. 

A few men of negro extraction, with white 
blood in their veins, not any more negro than 
white man, consequently not negroes in the true 
sense of the word, are sent from the negi'o 
colleges of the south to lecture northern congre- 
gations upon the needs of their r^ce] and these 
one-quarter, or perhaps three-quarters, white 
men are, with their intelligence, and sometimes 
brilliant oratory, held up as true types of the 
negro race by northerners; while there is, in 
fact, as much difference between the pure- 
blooded negro of the rice-field and this false 
representative of " his needs," as can well be 
imagined. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 253 

An Irishman, just from the old country, lis- 
tened one evening to the fascinating eloquence 
of a mulatto freedman. The good Irishman had 
never seen a pure-blooded black man. The ora- 
tor said, " I am only half a black man. My 
mother was a slave, my father a white planter." 
" Be jabbers," shouted the excited Irishman, 
who was charmed with the lecturer, " if you are 
only half a nigger, what must a zvhole one be 
like!" 

The blacks were kind and civil, as the}'' usually 
are when fairly treated. They stood upon the 
dike and shouted unintelligible farewells as I 
descended the canal to Alligator Creek. This 
thoroughfare soon carried me on its salt-water 
current to the sea; for I missed a narrow en- 
trance to the marshes, called the Eye of the 
Needle (a steamboat thoroughfare), and found 
myself upon the calm sea, which pulsated in 
long swells. To the south was the low island 
of Cape Roman, which, like a protecting arm, 
guarded the quiet bay behind it. The marshes 
extended from the main almost to the cape, 
while upon the edge of the rushy meadows, upon 
an island just inside of the cape, rose the tower 
of Roman Light. 

This was the first time my tiny shell had 
floated upon the ocean. I coasted the sandy 
beach of the muddy lowlands, towards the light- 
house, until I found a creek debouching from 



254 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

the marsh, which I entered, and from one water- 
course to another, without a chart, found my 
way at dusk into Bull's Bay. The sea was roll- 
ing in and breaking upon the shore, which I was 
forced to hug closely, as the old disturbers of my 
peace, the porpoises, were visible, fishing in 
numbers. To escape the dangerous raccoon 
oyster reefs of the shoal water the canoe was 
forced into a deeper channel, when the lively 
porpoises chased the boat and drove me back 
again on to the sharp-lipped shells. It was fast 
growing dark, and no place of refuge nearer 
than the upland, a long distance across the soft 
marsh, which was even now wet with the sea. 

The rough water of the sound, the oyster reefs 
which threatened to pierce my boat, and a coast 
which would be submerged by the next flood- 
tide, all seemed to conspire against me. Sud- 
denly my anxiety was relieved, and gratitude 
filled my heart, as the tall masts of a schooner 
rose out of the marshes not far from the upland, 
telling me that a friendly creek was near at hand. 
Its wide mouth soon opened invitingly before 
me, and I rowed towards the beautiful craft 
anchored in its current, the trim rig of which 
plainly said — the property of the United States. 
An officer stood on the quarterdeck watching 
my approach through his glass; and, as I was 
passing the vessel, a sailor remarked to his 
mates, " That is the paper canoe. I was in Nor- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 255 

folk, last December, when it reached the Eliza- 
beth River." 

The officer kindly hailed me, and offered me 
the hospitality of the Coast-Survey schooner 
" Casw^ell." In the cosiest of cabins, Mr. W. H. 
Dennis, with his co-laborers Messrs. Ogden and 
Bond, with their interesting conversation soon 
made me foro^et the discomforts of the last three 
days spent in the muddy flats among the lowland 
negroes. From poor, kind Seba Gillings' black 
cabin-floor, to the neat state-room, with its snowy 
sheets and clean towels, where fresh, pure water 
could be used without stint, was indeed a transi- 
tion. The party expected to complete their 
work as far as Charleston harbor before the 
season closed. 

The Sunday spent on the " Caswell " greatly 
refreshed me. On Saturday evening Mr. Dennis 
traced upon a sheet of paper my route through 
the interior coast watercourses to Charleston 
harbor; and I left the pretty schooner on Mon- 
day, fully posted for my voyage. The tide com- 
menced flooding at eleven a. m., and the flats 
soon afforded me water for their passage in the 
vicinity of the shore. Heavy forests covered 
the uplands, where a few houses were visible. 
Bull's Island, with pines and a few cabbage palms, 
was on my left as I reached the entrance of the 
southern thoroughfare at the end of the bay. 
Here, in the intricacies of creeks and passages 



256 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

through the islands, and made careless by the 
possession of Mr. Dennis' chart, I several times 
blundered into the wrong course; and got no 
further that afternoon than Price's Inlet, though 
I rowed more than twenty miles. Some eight 
miles of the distance rowed was lost by ascend- 
ing and descending creeks by mistake. 

After a weary day's work shelter was found 
in a house close by the sea, on the shores of 
Price's Inlet; where, in company with a young 
fisherman, who was in the employ of Mr. Mag- 
wood, of Charleston, I slept upon the floor in my 
blankets. Charles Hucks, the fisherman, asserted 
that three albino deer were killed on Caper's 
Island the previous winter. Two were shot by 
a negro, while he killed the third. Messrs. 
Magwood, Terry, and Noland, of Charleston, one 
summer penned beside the water one thousand 
old terrapin, to hold them over for the winter 
•season. These " diamond-backs " would con- 
sume five bushels of shrimps in one hour when 
fed. A tide of unusual height washed out the 
terrapins from their " crawl," and with them dis- 
appeared all anticipated results of the experiment. 

The next day. Caper's Island and Inlet, De- 
wees' Inlet, Long Island, and Breach Inlet were 
successively passed, on strong tidal currents. 
Sullivan's Island is separated from Long Island 
by Breach Inlet. While following the* creeks in 
the marshes back of Sullivan's Island, the com- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 257 

pact mass of buildings of Moultrieville, at its 
western end, at the entrance of Charleston har- 
bor, rose imposingly to view. 

The gloomy mantle of darkness was settling 
over the harbor as the paper canoe stole quietly 
into its historic waters. Before me lay the quiet 
bay, with old Fort Sumter rising from the watery 
plain like a spectral giant, as though to remind 
one that this had been the scene of mighty 
struggles. The tranquil waters softly rippled a 
response to the touch of my oars; all was peace 
and quiet here, where, only a few short years 
before, the thunder of cannon woke a thousand 
echoes, and the waves were stained with the life- 
blood of America, — where war, with her iron 
throat, poured out destruction, and God's crea- 
tures, men, made after his own image, de- 
stro3^ed each other ruthlessly, having never, in all 
that civilization had done for them, discovered 
any other way of settling their difficulties than 
by this wholesale murder. 

The actors in this scene were scattered now; 
they had returned to the farm, the workshop, 
the desk, and the pulpit. The old flag again 
floated upon the ramparts of Sumter, and a gov- 
ernment was trying to reconstruct itself, so that 
the Great Republic should become more thor- 
oughly a government of the people, founded 
upon equal rights to all men. 

A sharp, scraping sound under my boat roused 

17 



258 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

me from my revery, for I had leaned upon my 
oars while the tide had carried me slowly but 
surely upon the oyster-reefs, from which I es- 
caped with some slight damage to my paper 
shell. Newspaper reading had impressed upon 
me a belief that the citizens of the city which 
played so important a part in the late civil war 
might not treat kindly a Massachusetts man. I 
therefore decided to go up to the city upon the 
ferry-boat for the large mail which awaited my 
arrival at the Charleston post-office, after re- 
ceiving which I intended to return to Mount 
Pleasant, and cross the bay to the entrance of 
the southern watercourses, leaving the city as 
quietly as I entered it. 

My curiosity was, however, aroused to see 
how, under the new reconstruction rule, things 
were conducted in the once proud city of 
Charleston. As I stood at the window of the 
post-office delivery, and inquired through the 
narrow window for my letters, a heavy shadow 
seemed to fall upon me as the head of a negro 
appeared. The black post-office official's feat- 
ures underwent a sudden change as I pro- 
nounced my name, and, while a warm glow of 
affection lighted up his dark face, he thrust his 
whole arm through the window, and grasped my 
hand with a vigorous shake in the most friendly 
manner, as though upon his shoulders rested the 
good name of the people. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 259 




Reception at Pharlesion PosT-pFFiCE, 



" Welcome to Charleston, Mr. B , welcome 

to our beautiful city," he exclaimed. So this 
was Charleston under reconstruction. 

After handing me my mail, the postmaster 
graciousl}'' remarked, " Our rule is to close the 
office at five o'clock p. m., but if you are belated 
any day, tap at the door, and I will attend you." 



26o VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

This was my first welcome to Charleston; but 
before I could return to my quarters at Mount 
Pleasant, members of the Chamber of Com- 
merce, the Carolina Club, and others, pressed 
upon me kind attentions and hospitalities, while 
Mr. James L. Frazer, of the South Carolina Re- 
gatta Association, sent for the Maria Theresa, 
and placed it in charge of the wharfinger of the 
Southern Wharf, where many ladies and gentle- 
men visited it. 

When I left the old city, a few days later, I 
blushed to think how I had doubted these people, 
whose reputation for hospitality to strangers had 
been world-wide for more than half a century. 

While here I was the guest of Rev. G. R. 
Brackett, the well-loved pastor of one of 
Charleston's churches. It was with feelincrs of 
regret I turned my tiny craft towards untried 
waters, leaving behind me the beautiful city of 
Charleston, and the friends who had so kindly 
cared for the lonely canoeist. 




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VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 26 1 



CHAPTER XII. 

FROM CHARLESTON TO SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. 

THE INTERIOR WATER ROUTE TO JEHOSSEE ISLAND. — GOVERNOR 
AIKEN'S MODEL RICE PLANTATION. — LOST IN THE HORNS. — 
ST. HELENA SOUND. — LOST IN THE NIGHT. — THE PHANTOM 
SHIP. — A FINLANDER'S WELCOME. — A NIGHT ON THE EM- 
PEROR'S old yacht. — THE PHOSPHATE MINES. — COOSAW 
AND BROAD RIVERS. — PORT ROYAL SOUND AND CALIBOQUE 
SOUND. — CUFFY'S HOME. — ARRIVAL IN GEORGIA. — RECEP- 
TIONS AT GREENWICH SHOOTING-PARK. 

CAPTAIN N. L. COSTE, and several other 
Charleston pilots, drew and presented to 
me charts of the route to be followed by the 
paper canoe through the Sea Island passages, 
from the Ashley to the Savannah River, as some 
of the smaller watercourses near the upland were 
not, in 1875, upon any engraved chart of the 
Coast Survey. 

Ex-Governor William Aiken, whose rice plan- 
tation on Jehossee Island was considered, before 
the late war, the model one of the south, invited 
me to pass the following Sunda}'' with him upon 
his estate, which was about sixty-five miles from 
Charleston, and along one of the interior water 
routes to Savannah. He proposed to leave his 
city residence and travel by land, while I paddled 



262 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

my canoe southward to meet him. The genial 
editor of the " News and Courier " promised to 
notify the people of my departure, and have the 
citizens assembled to give me a South Carolina 
adieu. To avoid this publicity, — so kindly 
meant, — I quietly left the city from the south 
side on Friday, February 12th, and ascended the 
Ashley to Wappoo Creek, on the opposite bank 
of the river. 

A steamboat sent me a screaming salute as the 
mouth of the Wappoo was reached, which made 
me feel that, though in strange waters, friends 
were all around me. I was now following one 
of the salt-water, steamboat passages through 
the great marshes of South Carolina. From 
Wappoo Creek I took the " Elliot Cut " into the 
broad Stono River, from behind the marshes of 
which forests rose upon the low bluffs of the 
upland, and rowed steadily on to Church Flats, 
where Wide Awake, with its landing and store, 
nestled on the bank. 

A little further on the tides divided, one ebb- 
ing through the Stono to the sea, the other to- 
wards the North Edisto. " New Cut " connects 
Church Flats with Wadmelaw Sound, a sheet 
of water not over two miles in width and the 
same distance in length. From the sound the 
Wadmelaw River runs to the mouth of the Da- 
hoo. Vessels drawing eight and a half feet of 
water can pass on full tides from Charleston over 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 263 

the course I was following to the North Edisto 
River. 

Leaving Wadmelaw Sound, a deep bend of 
the river was entered, when the bluffs of En- 
terprise Landing, with its store and the ruins of 
a burnt saw-mill, came into view on the left. 
Having rowed more than thirty miles from the 
Ashley, and finding that the proprietor of En- 
terprise, a Connecticut gentleman, had made 
preparations to entertain me, this day of pleasant 
journeying ended. 

The Cardinal-bird was carolling his matin 
song when the members of this little New 
England colony watched my departure down the 
Wadmelaw the next morning^. The course was 
for the most part over the submerged phosphate 
beds of South Carolina, where the remains of 
extinct species were now excavated, furnishing 
food for the worn-out soils of America and Eu- 
rope, and interesting studies and speculations for 
men of science. The Dahoo River was reached 
soon after leaving Enterprise. Here the North 
Edisto, a broad river, passes the mouth of the 
Dahoo, in its descent to the sea, which is about 
ten miles distant. 

For two miles along the Dahoo the porpoises 
gave me strong proof of their knowledge of the 
presence of the paper canoe by their rough 
gambols, but being now in quiet inland waters, 
I could laugh at these strange creatures as they 



264 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

broke from the water around the boat. At four 
o'clock p. M. the extensive marshes of Jehossee 
Island were reached, and I approached the vil- 
lage of the plantation through a short canal. 

Out of the rice-fields of rich, black alluvium 
rose an area of higher land, upon which were 
situated the mansion and village of Governor 
Aiken, where he, in 1830, commenced his duties 
as rice-planter. A hedge of bright green casino 
surrounded the well-kept garden, within which 
magnolias and live-oaks enveloped the solid old 
house, screening it with their heavy foliage from 
the strong winds of the ocean, while flowering 
shrubs of all descriptions added their bright and 
vivid coloring to the picturesque beauty of the 
scene. 

The governor had arrived at Jehossee before 
me, and Saturday being pay-day, the faces of the 
negroes were wreathed in smiles. Here, in his 
quiet island home, I remained until Monday with 
this most excellent man and patriot, whose soul 
had been tried as by fire during the disturbances 
caused by the war. 

As we sat together in that room where, in 
years gone by. Governor Aiken had entertained 
his northern guests, with Englishmen of noble 
blood, — a room full of reminiscences both 
pleasant and painful, — my kind host freely told 
me the story of his busy life, which sounded like 
a tale of romance. He had tried to stay the wild 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 265 

storm of secession when the war-cloud hung 
gloomily over his state. It broke, and his un- 
heeded warnings were drowned in the thunders 
of the political tempest that swept over the fair 
south. Before the war he owned one thousand 
slaves. He organized schools to teach his ne- 
groes to read and write. The improvement of 
their moral condition was his great study. 

The life he had entered upon, though at first 
distasteful, had been forced upon him, and he 
met his peculiar responsibilities with a true 
Christian desire to benefit all within his reach. 
When a young man, having returned from the 
tour of Europe, his father presented him with 
Jehossee Island, an estate of five thousand acres, 
around which it required four stout negro oars- 
men to row him in a day. " Here," said the 
father to the future governor of South Carolina, 
as he presented the domain to his son, — " here 
are the means; now go to work and develop 
them." 

William Aiken applied himself industriously 
to the task of improving the talents given him. 
His well-directed efforts bore good fruit, as year 
after year Jehossee Island, from a half sub- 
merged, sedgy, boggy waste, grew into one of 
the finest rice-plantations in the south. The 
new lord of the manor ditched the marshes, and 
walled in his new rice-fields with dikes, to keep 
out the freshets from the upland and the tides 



266 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

from the ocean, perfecting a complete system of 
drainage and irrigation. He built comfortable 
quarters for his slaves, and erected a church and 
schoolhouse for their use. From the original 
two hundred and eighty acres of cultivated rice 
land, the new proprietor developed the wild 
morass into sixteen hundred acres of rice-fields, 
and six hundred acres of vegetable, corn, and 
provender producing land. 

For several seasons prior to the war, Jehossee 
yielded a rice crop which sold for seventy thou- 
sand dollars, and netted annually fifty thousand 
dollars income to the owner. At that time Gov- 
ernor Aiken had eight hundred and seventy- 
three slaves on the island, and about one hundred 
working as mechanics, &c., in Charleston. The 
eight hundred and seventy-three Jehossee slaves, 
men, women, and children, furnished a working 
force of three hundred for the rice-fields. 

Mr. Aiken would not tolerate the loose matri- 
monial ways of negro life, but compelled his 
slaves to accept the marriage ceremony; and 
herein lay one of his chief difficulties, for, to 
whatever cause we attribute it, the fact remains 
the same, namely, that the ordinary negro has 
no sense of morality. After all the attempts 
made on this plantation to improve the moral 
nature of these men and women. Governor Aiken, 
during a yellow-fever season in Savannah after 
the war, while visiting the poor sufferers, intent 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 267 

Upon charitable works, found in the lowest quar- 
ter of the city, sunk in the most abject depths of 
vice, men and women who had once been good 
servants on his plantations. 

In old times Jehossee was a happy place for 
master and for slave. The governor rarely 
locked the door of his mansion. The family 
plate, valued at fifteen thousand dollars, was 
stored in a chest in a room on the ground-floor 
of the house, which had for its occupants, during 
four months of the year, two or three negro ser- 
vants. Though all the negroes at the quarters, 
which were only a quarter of a mile from the 
mansion, knew the valuable contents of the 
chest, it was never disturbed. They stole small 
things, but seemed incapable of committing a 
burglary. 

When the Union army marched through an- 
other part of South Carolina, where Governor 
Aiken had buried these old family heirlooms and 
had added to the original plate thirty thousand 
dollars' worth of his own purchasing, the soldiers 
dug up this treasure-trove, and forty-five thou- 
sand dollars' worth of fine silver went to enrich 
the spoils of the Union army. Soon after, three 
thousand eight hundred bottles of fine old wines, 
worth from eight to nine dollars a bottle, were 
dug up and destroyed by a Confederate officer's 
order, to prevent the Union army from capturing 
them. Thus was plundered an old and revered 



268 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

cfovernor of South Carolina — one who was a 
kind neighbor, a true patriot, and a Christian 
gentleman. 

The persecutions of the owner of Jehossee 
did not, however, terminate with the war; for 
when the struggle was virtually ended, and the 
fair mansion of the rice-plantation retained its 
heirlooms and its furniture, Beaufort, of South 
Carolina, was still under the influence of the 
Freedman's Bureau; and when it w^as whispered 
that Aiken's house was full of nice old furniture, 
and that a few faithful servants of the good old 
master were its only guards, covetous thoughts 
at once stirred the evil minds of those who were 
the representatives of law and order. This house 
was left almost without protection. The war was 
over. South Carolina had bent her proud head 
in agony over her burned plantations and deso- 
late homes. The victorious army was now pro- 
claiming peace, and generous treatment to a 
fallen foe. Then to what an almost unimagin- 
able state of demoralization must some of the 
freedmen's protectors have fallen, when they 
sent a gunboat to Jehossee Island, and rifled the 
old house of all its treasures! 

To-day, the governor's favorite sideboard 
stands in the house of a citizen of Boston, as 
a relic of the war. O, people of the north, 
hold no longer to your relics of the war, stolen 
from the firesides of the south! Restore them 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 269 

to their owners, or else bury them out of the 
sight of your children, that they may not be led 
to believe that the war for the preservation of 
the Great Republic was a war for -plunder; — 
else did brave men fight, and good women pray in 
vain. Away with stolen pianos, " captured " 
sideboards, and purloined silver! What but 
this petty plundering could be expected of men 
who robbed by wholesale the poor negro, to 
protect whose rights they were sent south? 

The great political party of the north became 
the pledged conservator of the black man's 
rights, and established a Freedman's Bureau, 
and Freedman's banks to guard his humble 
earnings. All know something of the workings 
of those banks; and to everlasting infamy must 
be consigned the names of many of those con- 
ducting them, — men who robbed every one 
of these depositories of negro savings, and left 
the poor, child-like freedman in a physical state 
of destitution, and in a perfect bewilderment of 
mind as to who^his true friend really was. 

A faithful negro of Jehossee Island was but 
one among thousands of such cases. While the 
tumult of war vexed the land, the faithful negro 
overseer remained at his post to guard his late 
masters property, supporting himself by the 
manufacture of salt, and living in the most fru- 
gal manner to be able to " lay by " a sum for his 
old age. Having saved five hundred dollars, he 



270 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

deposited them in the nearest Freedman's bank, 
which, though fathered by the United States 
government, failed; and the now destitute negro 
found himself stripped in the same moment of 
his hard-earned savings, and his confidence in 
his new protectors. 

As the war of the rebellion was slowly draw- 
inof to its close, Mr. Lincoln's kind heart was 
drawn towards his erring countrymen, and he 
made a list of the names of the wisest and best 
men of the south, v^^ho, not having taken an act- 
ive part in the strife, might be intrusted with 
the task of bringing back the unruly states to 
their constitutional relations with the national 
ofovernment. Governor Aiken was informed 
that his name was upon that list; and he would 
gladly have accepted the onerous position, and 
labored in the true interests of the whole people, 
but the pistol of an assassin closed the life of 
the President, whose generous plans of recon- 
struction were never realized. 

In the birth of our new Centennial let us 
eschew the political charlatan, and bring for- 
ward our statesmen to serve and govern a peo- 
ple, who, to become a unit of strength, must 
ever bear in mind the words of the great south- 
ern statesman, who said he knew " no north, no 
south, no east, no west; but one undivided 
country." 

On Monday, at ten a. m., two negroes assisted 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 27 I 

me to launch my craft from the river's bank at 
the mouth of the canal, for the tide was very 
low. As I settled myself for a long pull at the 
oars, the face of one of the blacks was seemingly 
rent in twain, as a huge mouth opened, and a 
pair of strong lungs sent forth these parting 
words : ^^ Bully for Massachusetts I " 

" How did you know I came from Massachu- 
setts?" I called out from the river. 

" I knows de cuts ob dem. I suffered at Fort 
Wagner. Dis chile knows Massachusetts." 

Two miles further on, Bull Creek served me 
as a " cut-off," and half an hour after entering it 
the tide was flooding against me. When Goat 
Island Creek was passed on the left hand, knots 
of pine forests rose picturesquely in places out 
of the bottom-lands, and an hour later, at Ben- 
nett's Point, on the right, I found the watercourse 
a quarter of a mile in width. 

The surroundings were of a lovely nature dur- 
ing this day's journey. Here marshes, diversi- 
fied by occasional hammocks of timber dotting 
their uninteresting wastes; there humble habita- 
tions of whites and blacks appearing at intervals 
in the forest growth. As I was destitute of a 
finished chart of the Coast Survey, after rowing 
along one side of Hutchinson's Island I became 
bewildered in the maze of creeks which pen- 
etrate the marshes that lie between Bennett's 
Point and the coast. 



272 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Making a rough topographical sketch of the 
country as I descended Hutchinson's Creek, or 
Big River, — the latter appellation being the 
most appropriate, as it is a very wide water- 
course, — I came upon a group of low islands, 
and found upon one of them a plantation which 
had been abandoned to the negroes, and the little 
bluff upon which two or three rickety buildings 
were situated was the last land which remained 
unsubmerged during a high tide between the 
plantation and the sea. 

I was now in a quandary. I had left the hospi- 
table residence of Governor Aiken at ten o'clock 
A. M., when I should have departed at sunrise in 
order to have had time to enter and pass through 
St. Helena Sound before night came on. The 
prospect of obtaining shelter was indeed dismal. 
Just at this time a loud shout from the negroes 
on shore attracted my attention, and I rested 
upon my oars, while a boat-load of women and 
children paddled out to me. 

" Is dat de little boat? " they asked, viewing 
my craft with curious eyes. " And is dat boat 
made of paper?" they continued, showing that 
negro runners had posted the people, even in 
these solitary regions, of the approach of the 
paper canoe. I questioned these negro women 
about the route, but each gave a different an- 
swer as to the passage through the Horns to St. 
Helena Sound. Hurrying on through tortuous 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 273 

creeks, the deserted tract called "''the Horns" was 
entered, and until sunset I followed one short 
stream after another, to its source in the reedy 
plain, constantly retracing the route, with the 
tide not yet ebbing strong enough to show me a 
course to the sound. Presently it ebbed more 
rapidly, and I followed the tide from one intri- 
cacy to another, but never found the principal 
thoroughfare. 

While I was enveloped in reeds, and at a loss 
which way to go, the soft ripple of breaking 
waves struck my ear like sweet music. The sea 
was telling me of its proximity. Carefully bal- 
ancing myself, I stood up in the cranky canoe, 
and peering over the grassy thickets, saw before 
me the broad waters of Helena Sound. The 
fresh salt breeze from the ocean struck upon 
my forehead, and nerved me to a renewal of my 
efforts to get within a region of higher land, and 
to a place of shelter. 

The ebbing tide was yet high, and through 
the forest of vegetation, and over the submerged 
coast, I pushed the canoe into the sound. Now I 
rowed as though for my life, closely skirting the 
marshes, and soon entered waters covered by a 
chart in my possession. My course was to skirt 
the coast of the sound from where I had entered 
it, and cross the mouths of the Combahee and 
Bull rivers to the entrance of the broad Coosaw. 
This last river I would ascend seven miles to the 
18 



274 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

first upland, and camp thereon until morning. 
The tide was now against me, and the night 
was growing darker, as the faithful craft was 
forced along the marshes four miles to the mouth 
of the Combahee River, which I had to ascend 
half a mile to get rid of a shoal of frisky por- 
poises, who were fishing in the current. 

Then descending it on the opposite shore, I 
rowed two miles further in the dark, but for half 
an hour previous to my reaching the wide de- 
bouchure of Bull River, some enormous black- 
fish surged about me in the tideway and sounded 
their nasal calls, while their more demonstrative 
porpoise neighbors leaped from the water in the 
misty atmosphere, and so alarmed me and occu- 
pied my attention, that instead of crossing to the 
Coosaw River, I unwittingly ascended the Bull, 
and was soon lost in the contours of the river. 

As I hugged the marshy borders of the stream 
to escape the strong current of its channel, and 
rowed on and on in the gloom, eagerly scanning 
the high, sedge-fringed flats to find one little spot 
of firm upland upon which I might land my 
canoe and obtain a resting-spot for myself , for 
the night, the feeling that I was lost was not the 
most cheerful to be imagined. In the thin focr 
which arose from the warm water into the cool 
night air, objects on the marshes assumed fantas- 
tical shapes. A few reeds, taller than the rest, 
had the appearance of trees twenty feet high. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 275 

So real did these unreal images seem, that I 
drove my canoe against the soft, muddy bank, 
repeatedly prompted to land in what seemed a 
copse of low trees, but in every instance I was 
deceived. Still I pulled up that mysterious 
river, ignorant at the time of even its name, 
praying only for one little spot of upland where 
I might camp. 

While thus employed, I peered over my 
shoulder into the gloom, and beheld what 
seemed to be a vision; for, out of a cloud of 
mist rose the skeleton lines of a large ship, 
with all its sails furled to the yards. "A ship at 
anchor, and in this out-of-the-way place ! " I ejac- 
ulated, scarcely believing my eyes; but when I 
pointed the canoe towards it, and again looked 
over my shoulder, the vision of hope was gone. 

Again I saw tall masts cutting through the 
mists, but the ship's hull could not be distin- 
guished, and as I rowed towards the objects, first 
the lower masts disappeared, then the topmasts 
dissolved, and later, the topgallant and royal 
masts faded away. For half an hour I rowed 
and rowed for that mysterious vessel, which was 
veiled and unveiled to my sight. Never did so 
spectral an object haunt or thwart me. It 
seemed to change its position on the water, as 
well as in the atmosphere, and I was too busily 
employed in trying to reach it to discover in the 
darkness that the current, which I could not dis- 



276 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

tinguish from smooth water, was whirling me 
down stream as fast as I would approach the 
weird vessel. 

Drawing once more from the current, I fol- 
lowed the marsh until the canoe was opposite 
the anchorage of a real ship; then, with hearty 
pulls, I shot around its stern, and shouted: " Ship 
ahoy!" 

No one answered the hail. The vessel looked 
like a man-of-war, but not of American build. 
Not a light gleamed from her ports, not a foot- 
fall came from her decks. She seemed to be 
deserted in the middle of the river, surrounded 
by a desolate waste of marshes. The current 
gurgled and sucked about her run, as the ebb- 
tide washed her black hull on its way to the sea. 
The spectacle seemed now even more myste- 
rious than when, mirage-like, it peered forth 
from a cloud of mist. But it was real, and not 
fantastic. Another hail, louder than the first, 
went forth into the night air, and penetrated to 
the ship's forecastle, for a sailor answered my 
call, and reported to the captain in the cabin the 
presence of a boat at the ship's side. 

A quick, firm tread sounded upon the deck; 
then, with a light bound, a powerfully-built 
young man landed upon the high rail of the ves- 
sel. He peered down from his stately ship upon 
the little speck which floated upon the gurgling 
current; then, with a voice "filled with the fogs 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 277 

of the ocean," he thundered forth, as though he 
were haihng a man-of-war: "What boat 's that?" 

"Paper canoe Maria Theresa," I repHed, in as 
foggy a voice as I could assume. 

"Where from, and where bound?" again 
roared the captain. 

" From Quebec, Canada, and bound to sleep 
on board your vessel, if I can ever get up there," 
I politely responded, in a more subdued voice, 
for I soon discovered that nature had never in- 
tended me for a fog-trumpet. 

"Ah, is it you?" cheerily responded the cap- 
tain, suddenly dispensing with all his fogginess; 
^"^ I've been looking for you this long time. Got a 
Charleston paper on board; your trip all in it. 
Come up, and break a bottle of wine with me." 

" All hands " came from the forecastle, and 
Finland mates and Finland sailors, speaking both 
English and Russian, crowded to the rail to 
receive the paper canoe, which had first been 
described to them by English newspapers when 
the vessel lay in a British port, awaiting the 
charter-party which afterwards sent them to Bull 
River, South Carolina, for a load of phosphates. 

The jolly crew lowered buntlines and clew- 
lines, to which I attached my boat's stores. 
These were hoisted up the high sides of the 
ship, and, after bending on a line to the bow and 
stern rings of the canoe, I ascended by the lad- 
der, while Captain Johs. Bergelund and his 



278 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

mates claimed the pleasure of landing the paper 
canoe on the deck of the Rm*ik. The tiny shell 
looked very small as she rested on the broad, 
white decks of the emperor of Russia's old steam 
yacht, which bore the name of the founder of 
the Russian empire. Though now a bark and 
not a steamer, though a freighter and not a 
royal yacht, the Rurik looked every inch a 
government vessel, for her young captain, with a 
sailor's pride, kept her in a thorough state of 
cleanliness and order. We went to supper. 
The captain, his mates, and the stranger gath- 
ered around the board, while the generous sailor 
brought out his curious bottles and put them by 
the side of the still more curious dishes of food. 

All my surroundings were those of the coun- 
try of the midnight sun, and I should have felt 
more bewildered than when in the fog I viewed 
and chased this spectral-looking ship, had not 
Captain Bergelund, in most excellent English, 
entertained me with a flow of conversation which 
put me at my ease. He discoursed of Finland, 
where lakes covered the country from near 
Abo, its chief city, to the far north, where the 
summer days are " nearly all night long." 

Painting in high colors the delights of his na- 
tive land, he begged me to visit it. Finally, as 
midnight drew near, this genial sailor insisted 
upon putting me in his own comfortable state- 
room, while he slept upon a lounge in the cabin. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 279 

One mile above the Rurik's anchorage was the 
phosphate-mill of the Pacific Company, which 
was supplying Captain Bergelund, by lighters, 
with his fi-eight of unground fertilizer. 

The next morning I took leave of the Rurik, 
but, instead of descending the Bull River to the 
Coosaw, I determined to save time by crossing 
the peninsula between the two rivers by means 
of two short creeks which were connected at 
their sources by a very short canal near " the 
mines " of the Phosphate Company. When I 
entered Horse Island Creek, at eleven o'clock, 
the tide was on the last of the ebb, and I sat in 
the canoe a long time awaiting the flood to float 
me up the wide ditch, which would conduct me 
to the creek that emptied into the Coosaw. 
Upon the banks of the canal three hours were 
lost waiting for the tide to give me one foot of 
water, when I rowed into the second water- 
course, and late in the afternoon entered the wide 
Coosaw. The two creeks and the connecting 
canal are called the Haulover Creek. 

As I turned up the Coosaw, and skirted the 
now submerged marshes of its left bank, two 
dredging-machines were at work up the river 
raising the remains of the marine monsters of 
antiquity. The strong wind and swashing seas 
being in my favor, the canoe soon arrived oppo- 
site the spot of upland I had so longed to reach 
the previous night. 



28o VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

This was Chisolm's Landing, back of which 
were the phosphate works of the Coosaw 
Mine Company. The inspector of phosphates, 
INIr. John Hunn, offered me the hospitality of 
Alligator Hall, where he and some of the gen- 
tlemen employed by the company resided in 
bachelor retirement. My host described a mam- 
mal's tooth that weighed nearly fourteen pounds, 
which had been taken from a phosphate mine; 
it had been sent to a public room at Beaufort, 
South Carolina. A fossil shark's tooth, weighing 
four and a half pounds, was also found, and a 
learned ichthyologist has asserted that the owner 
of this remarkable relic of the past must have 
been one hundred feet in length. 

Beaufort was near at hand, and could be easily 
reached by entering Brickyard Creek, the en- 
trance of which was on the right bank of the 
Coosaw, nearly opposite Chisolm's Landing. It 
was nearl}^ six miles by this creek to Beaufort, 
and from that town to Port Royal Sound, by fol- 
lowing Beaufort River, was a distance of eleven 
miles. The mouth of Beaufort River is only two 
miles from the sea. Preferring to follow a more 
interior water route than the Beaufort one, the ca- 
noe was rowed up the Coosaw five miles to Whale 
Branch, which is crossed by the Port Royal rail- 
road bridge. Whale Branch, five miles in length, 
empties into Broad River, which I descended 
thirteen miles, to the lower end of Daw Island, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 251 

on its right bank. Here, in this region of marshy 
shores, the Chechessee River and the Broad River 
mingle their strong currents in Port Royal Sound. 
It was dusk v^^hen the sound was entered from 
the extreme end of Daw Island, where it became 
necessary to cross immediately to Skull Creek, at 
Hilton Head Island, or go into camp for the night. 

I looked down the sound six miles to the broad 
Atlantic, which was sending in clouds of mist on 
a fresh breeze. I gazed across the mouth of the 
Chechessee, and the sound at the entrance of the 
port of refuge. I desired to traverse nearly three 
miles of this rough water. I would gladly have 
camped, but the shore I was about to leave offered 
to submerge me with the next high water. No 
friendly hammock of trees could be seen as I 
glided from the shadow of the high rushes of 
Daw Island. Circumstances decided the point 
in debate, and I rowed rapidly into the sound. 
The canoe had not gone half a mile when the 
Chechessee River opened fully to view, and a 
pretty little hammock, with two or three shanties 
beneath its trees, could be plainly seen on Daw's 
Island. 

It was now too late to return and ascend the 
river to the hammock, for the sound was dis- 
turbed by the freshening breeze from the sea 
blowing against the ebb-tide, which was increased 
in power by the outflowing volume of water from 
the wide Chechessee. It required all the energy 



202 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

I possessed to keep the canoe from being over- 
run by the swashy, sharp-pointed seas. Once or 
twice I thought my last struggle for life had 
come, but a merciful Power gave me the strength 
and coolness that this trying ordeal required, and 
I somehow weathered the dangerous oyster reefs 
above Skull Creek, and landed at " Seabrook 
Plantation," upon Hilton Head Island, near two 
or three old houses, one of which was being fitted 
up as a store by Mr. Kleim, of the First New 
York Volunteers, who had lived on the island 
since 1861. Mr. Kleim took me to his bachelor 
quarters, where the wet cargo of the Maria The- 
resa was dried by the kitchen fireplace. 

The next day, February 18, I left Seabrook 
and followed Skull Creek to Mackay's Creek, 
and, passing the mouth of May River, entered 
Calibogue Sound, where a sudden tempest arose 
and drove me into a creek which flowed out of 
the marshes of Bull Island. A few negro huts 
were discovered on a low mound of earth. The 
blacks told me their hammock was called Bird 
Island. 

The tempest lasted all day, and as no shelter 
could be found on the creek, a darky hauled my 
canoe on a cart a couple of miles to Bull Creek, 
which enters into Cooper River, one of the water- 
courses I was to enter from Calibogue Sound. 
Upon reaching the wooded shores of Bull Creek, 
my carter introduced me to the head man of the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 283 

settlement, a weazened-looking little old crea- 
ture called Cuffy, who, though respectful in his 
demeanor to " de Yankee-mans," was cross and 
overbearing to the few families occupying the 
shanties in the magnificent grove of live-oaks 
which shaded them. 

Cuffy's cook-house, or kitchen, which was a 
log structure measuring nine by ten feet, with 
posts only three feet high, was the only building 
which could be emptied of its contents for my 
accommodation. Our contract or lease was a 
verbal one, Cuffy's terms being " whateber de 
white man likes to gib an ole nigger." Cuffy 
cut a big switch, and sent in his " darter," a girl 
of about fourteen years, to clean out the shanty. 
When she did not move fast enough to suit the 
old man's wishes, he switched her over the 
shoulders till it excited my pity; but the girl 
seemed to take the beating as an every-day 
amusement, for it made no impression on her 
hard skull and thick skin. 

After commencing to "keep house," the old 
women came to sell me eggs and beg for 
" bacca." They requested me never to throw 
away my coffee-grounds, as it made coffee " good 
'nuf for black folks." I distributed some of my 
stores among them, and, after cutting rushes and 
boughs for my bed, turned in for the night. 

These negroes had been raising Sea-Island 
cotton, but the price having declined to five 



284 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

cents a pound, they could not get twenty-five 
cents a day for their labor by cultivating it. 

The fierce wind subsided before dawn, but a 
heavy fog covered the marshes and the creek. 
Cuffy's "settlement" turned out before sunrise 
to see me off; and the canoe soon reached the 
broad Cooper River, which I ascended in the 
misty darkness by following close to the left 
bank. Four miles up the Cooper River from 
Calibogue Sound there is a passage through the 
marshes from the Cooper to New River, which 
is called Ram's Horn Creek. On the right of 
its entrance a well-wooded hammock rises from 
the marsh, and is called Page Island. About 
midway between the two rivers and along this 
crooked thoroughfare is another piece of upland 
called Pine Island, inhabited by the families of 
two boat-builders. 

While navigating Cooper River, as the heavy 
mists rolled in clouds over the quiet waters, a 
sail-boat, rowed by negroes, emerged from the 
gloom and as suddenly disappeared. I shouted 
after them: "Please tell me the name of the next 
creek." A hoarse voice came back to me from 
the cloud: "Pull and be d — d." Then all was 
still as night again. To solve this seemingly 
uncourteous reply, so unusual in the south, 
I consulted the manuscript charts which the 
Charleston pilots had kindly drawn for my use, 
and found that the negroes had spoken geo- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 285 

graphically as well as truthfully, for Pine Island 
Creek is known to the watermen as " Pull and 
be d — d Creek," on account of its tortuous char- 
acter, and chiefly because, as the tides head in 
it, if a boat enters it from one river with a favor- 
able tide, it has a strong head current on the 
other side of the middle ground to oppose it. 
Thus pulling at the oars at some parts of the 
creek becomes hard work for the boatmen; 
hence this name, which, though profane, may 
be considered geographical. 

After leaving the Cooper River, the water- 
courses to Savannah were discolored by red or 
yellow mud. From Pine Island I descended 
New River two miles and a half to Wall's Cut, 
which is only a quarter of a mile in length, and 
through which I entered Wright's River, fol- 
lowing it a couple of miles to the broad, yel- 
low, turbulent current of the Savannah. 

My thoughts now naturally turned to the early 
days of steamboat enterprise, when this river, as 
well as the Hudson, was conspicuous; for though 
the steamer Savannah was not the first steam- 
propelled vessel which cut the waves of the 
Atlantic, she was the first steamer that ever 
crossed it. Let us examine historical data. 
Colonel John Stevens, of New York, built the 
steamboat Phcenix about the year 1808, and was 
prevented from using it upon the Hudson River 
by the Fulton and Livingston monopoly charter. 



286 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

The Phoenix made an ocean voyage to the 
Delaware River. The first English venture was 
that of the steamer Caledonia, which made a 
passage to Holland in 1817. The London Times 
of May II, 18 19, printed in its issue of that date 
the following item: 

" Great Experiment. — A new vessel of three hundi-ed tons 
has been built at New York for the express purpose of carrying 
passengers across the Atlantic. She is to come to Liverpool 
direct." 

This ship-rigged steamer was the " Savannah," 
and the bold projector of this experiment of send- 
inof a steamboat across the Atlantic was Daniel 
Dodd. The Savannah was built in New York, by 
Francis Picket, for Mr. Dodd. Stephen Vail, of 
Morristown, New Jersey, built her engines, and 
on the 2 2d of August, 18 18, she was launched, 
gliding gracefully into the element which was to 
bear her to foreign lands, there to be crowned 
with the laurels of success. On May 25th this 
purely American-built vessel left Savannah, and 
glided out from this waste of marshes, under 
the command of Captain Moses Rogers, with 
Stephen Rogers as navigator. The port of New 
London, Conn., had furnished these able seamen. 

The steamer reached Liverpool June 20th, the 
passage having occupied twenty-six days, upon 
eighteen of which she had used her paddles. A 
son of Mr. Dodd once told me of the sensation 
produced by the arrival of a smoking vessel on 



♦ VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 287 

the coast of Ireland, and how Lieutenant John 
Bowie, of the king's cutter Kite, sent a boat-load 
of sailors to board the Savannah to assist her 
crew to extinguish the fires of what his Majesty's 
officers supposed to be a burning ship. 

The Savannah, after visiting Liverpool, con- 
tinued her voyage on July 23d, and reached St. 
Petersburg in safety. Leaving the latter port on 
October loth, this adventurous craft completed 
the round voyage upon her arrival at Savannah, 
November 30th. 

I pulled up the Savannah until within five miles 
of the city, and then left the river on its south 
side, where old rice-plantations are first met, and 
entered St. Augustine Creek, which is the steam- 
boat thoroughfare of the inland route to Florida. 
Just outside the city of Savannah, near its beau- 
tiful cemetery, where tall trees with their grace- 
ful drapery of Spanish moss screen from wind 
and sun the quiet resting-places of the dead, my 
canoe was landed, and stored in a building of the 
German Greenwich Shooting Park, where Mr. 
John Hellwig, in a most hospitable manner, cared 
for it and its owner. 

While awaiting the arrival of letters at the 
Savannah post-office, many of the ladies of that 
beautiful city came out to see the paper canoe. 
They seemed to have the mistaken idea that my 
little craft had come from the distant Dominion 
of Canada over the Atlantic Ocean. They also 



288 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

looked upon the voyage of the paper canoe as a 
very sentimental thing, while the canoeist had 
found it an intensely practical affair, though oc- 
casionally relieved by incidents of romantic or 
amusing character. As the ladies clustered 
round the boat while it rested upon the centre- 
table of Mr. Hellwig's parlor, they questioned me 
freely. 

" Tell us," they said, " what were 3^our thoughts 
while you rowed upon the broad ocean in the 
lonely hours of night?" 

Though unwilling to break their pleasing illu- 
sions, I was obliged to inform them that a sen- 
sible canoeist is usually enjoying his needed rest 
in some camp, or sleeping in some sheltered 
place, — under a roof if possible, — after it is too 
dark to travel in safety; and as to ocean travel- 
ling, the canoe had only once entered upon the 
Atlantic Ocean, and then through a mistake. 

" But what subjects occupy your thoughts as 
you row, and row, and row all day by yourself, 
in this little ship? " a motherly lady inquired. 

" To tell you honestly, ladies, I must say that 
when I am in shallow watercourses, with the 
tides usually ebbing at the wrong time for my 
convenience, I am so full of anxiety about getting 
wrecked on the reefs of sharp coon-oysters, 
that I am wishing myself in deep water; and 
when my route forces me into the deep water of 
sounds, and the surface becomes tossed into wild 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 289 

disorder by strong currents and stronger winds, 
and the porpoises pay me their little attentions, 
chasing the canoe, flapping their tails, and show- 
ing their sportive dispositions, I think longingly 
of those same shoal creeks, and wish I was once 
more in their shallow waters." 

" We ladies have prayed for your safet}^," said 
a kind-looking German lady, " and we will pra}^ 
that 3-our voyage may have a happy and success- 
ful end." 

When the ladies left, two Irish laborers, dressed 
in sombre black, with high hats worn with the 
air of dignity, examined the boat. There was an 
absence of the sparkle of fun usually seen in 
the Irish face, for this was a serious occasion. 
They did not see any romance or sentiment in 
the vo3^age, but took a broad, geographical view 
of the matter. They stood silently gazing at 
the canoe with the same air of solemnity they 
would have given a corpse. Then one addressed 
the other, as though the owner of the craft was 
entirely out of the hearing of their conversation. 

Said No. i, " And what did I tell ye. Pater?" 
" And so ye did," replied No. 2. " And didn't I 
say so?" continued No. i. "Of course ye did; 
and wasn't me of the same mind, to be sure?" 
responded No. 2. "Yes, I told ye as how it is 
the men of these times is greater than the men of 
ould times. There was the great Coolumbus, who 
came over in three ships to see Americky. What 

19 



290 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

did he know about ^aper boats? Nothing at all, 
at all. He cum over in big ships, while this young 
feller has cum all the way from Canada. I tell ye 
the men of ould times was not up to the men of 
these times. Thin there's Captain Boyton, who 
don't use any boat or ship at all, at all, but goes a- 
S'wimming in rubber clothes to keep him dry all 
over the Atlantic Oshin. Jis' look, man, how he 
landed on the shores of ould Ireland not long since. 
Now what's Coolumbus, or any other man of the 
past ages, to him? Coolumbus could not hold a 
candle to Boyton ! No, I tell ye agen that the men 
of this age is greater than the men of the past 
ages." " And," broke in No. 2, " there's a Brit- 
isher who's gone to the River Niles in a ca- 
noe." "The River Niles I'''' hotly exclaimed 
No. I ; " don't waste your breath on that thing. 
It's no new thing at all, at all. It was diskivered 
a long time ago, and nobody cares a fig for it 
now." " Yet," responded No. 2, " some of those 
old-times people were very enterprising. There 
was that great traveller Robinson Crusoe : ye must 
confess he was a great man for his time." " The 
same who wint to the South Sea Islands and 
settled there?" asked the first biographer. "The 
very same man^'' replied No. 2, with animation. 
This instructive conversation was here inter- 
rupted by a party of ladies and gentlemen, who 
in turn gave their views of canoe and canoeist. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 29 I 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FROM THE SAVANNAH RIVER TO FLORIDA. 

ROUTE TO THE SEA ISLANDS OF GEORGIA. — STORM-BOUND ON 
GREEN ISLAND. — OSSABAW ISLAND. — ST. CATHERINE'S SOUND. 
— SAPELO ISLAND. — THE MUD OF MUD RIVER. — NIGHT IN A 
NEGRO CABIN. — " DE SHOUTINGS " ON DOBOY ISLAND. — 
BROUGHTON ISLAND. — ST. SIMON'S AND JEKYL ISLANDS. — 
INTERVIEW WITH AN ALLIGATOR. — A NIGHT IN JOINTER 
HAMMOCK. — CUMBERLAND ISLAND AND ST. MARY's RIVER. — 
FAREWELL TO THE SEA. 



o 



N February 24th, the voyage was again re- 
sumed. My route lay through the coast 
islands of Georgia, as far south as the state 
boundary, Cumberland Sound, and the St. Ma- 
ry's River. This part of the coast is very inter- 
esting, and is beautifully delineated on the Coast 
Charts No. 56-57 of the United States Coast 
Survey, which were published the year after my 
voyage ended. 

Steamers run from Savannah through these 
interesting interior water-ways to the ports of 
the St. John's River, Florida, and by taking this 
route the traveller can escape a most uninterest- 
ing railroad journey from Savannah to Jackson- 
ville, where sandy soils and pine forests present 



292 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

an uninviting prospect to the eye. A little 
dredging, in a few places along the steamboat 
route, should be done at national cost, to make 
this a more convenient and expeditious tidal 
route for vessels. 

Leaving Greenwich, Bonaventure, and Thun- 
derbolt behind me on the upland, the canoe en- 
tered the great marshy district of the coast along 
the Wilmington and Skiddaway rivers to Skid- 
daway Narrows, which is a contracted, crooked 
watercourse connecting the Skiddaway with the 
Burnside River. The low lands were made pic- 
turesque by hammocks, some of which were cul- 
tivated. 

In leaving the Burnside for the broad Vernon 
River, as the canoe approached the sea, one of 
the sudden tempests which frequently vex these 
coast-waters arose, and drove me to a hammock 
in the marshes of Green Island, on the left bank 
and opposite the mouth of the Little Ogeechee 
River. Green Island has been well cultivated 
in the past, but is now only the summer home 
of Mr. Styles, its owner. Two or three families 
of negroes inhabited the cabins and looked after 
the property of the absent proprietor. 

I waded to my knees in the mud before the 
canoe could be landed, and, as it stormed all 
night, I slept on the floor of the humble cot of 
the negro Echard Holmes, having first treated 
the household to crackers and coffee. The ne- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 293 

groes gathered from other points to examine the 
canoe, and, hearing that I was from the north, 
one grizzly old darky begged me to " carry " 
his complaints to Washington. 

"De goberment," he said, "has been berry 
good to wees black folks. It gib us our free- 
dom, — all berry well; but dar is an noder ting 
wees wants ; dat is, wees wants General Grant to 
make tings stashionary. De storekeeper gibs a 
poor nigger only one dollar fur bushel corn, some- 
times not so much. Den he makes poor nigger 
gib him tree dollars fur bag hominy, sometimes 
more 'n dat. Wees wants de goberment to make 
tings stashionary. Make de storekeeper gib 
black man one dollar and quarter fur de bushel 
of corn, and make him sell de poor nigger de 
bag hominy fur much less dan tree dollars. 
Make all tings stashionary. Den dar 's one ting 
more. Tell de goberment to do fur poor darky 
'nodder ting, — make de ole massa say to me, 
^ You 's been good slave in ole times, — berry 
good slave; now I gib you one, two, tree,yft;e 
acres of land for yoursef Den ole nigger be 
happy, and massa be happy too; den bof of um 
bees happy. Hab you a leetle bacca fur dis ole 
man? " 

From the Styles mansion it was but three 
miles to Ossabaw Sound. Little Don Island 
and Raccoon Key are in the mouth of the Ver- 
non. Between the two flat islands is a deep 



294 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

passage through which the tides rush with great 
force; it is called Hell Gate. On the south 
side of Raccoon Ke}^ the Great Ogeechee River 
pours its strong volume of water into Ossabaw 
Sound. 

I entered the Great Ogeechee through the 
Don Island passage, and saw sturgeon-fishermen 
at work with their nets along the shores of Os- 
sabaw, one of the sea islands. Ossabaw Island 
lies between Ossabaw and St. Catherine's 
sounds, and is eight miles long and six miles 
wide. The side towards the sea is firm upland, 
diversified with glades, while the western por- 
tion is principally marshes cut up by numerous 
creeks. All the sea islands produce the long 
staple cotton known as sea-island cotton, and 
before the war a very valuable variety. A few 
negroes occupy the places abandoned by the 
proprietor, and eke out a scanty livelihood. 

There are many deer in the forests of Ossa- 
baw Island. One of its late proprietors in- 
formed me that there must be at least ten thou- 
sand wild hogs there, as they have been multi- 
plying for many years, and but few were shot 
by the negroes. The domestic hog becomes a 
very shy aqimal if left to himself for two or 
three years. The hunter may search for him 
without a dog almost in vain, though the woods 
may contain large numbers of these creatures. 

The weather was now delightful, and had I 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 295 

possessed a light tent I would not have sought 
shelter at night in a human habitation anywhere 
aloncr the route. The malaria which arises from 
fresh-water sinks in many of the sea islands 
during the summer months, did not now make 
camping-out dangerous to the health. Crossing 
the Great Ogeechee above Middle Marsh Island, 
I followed the river to the creek called Florida 
Passage, through which I reached Bear River, 
with its wide and long reaches, and descended it 
to St. Catherine's Sound. 

Now the sea opened to full view as the canoe 
crossed the tidal ocean gateway two miles to 
North Newport River. When four miles up the 
Newport I entered Johnson's Creek, which flows 
from North to South Newport rivers. By 
means of the creek and the South Newport 
River, my little craft was navigated down to the 
southern end of St. Catherine's Island to the 
sound of the same name, and here another inlet 
was crossed at sunset, and High Point of Sapelo 
Island was reached. 

From among the green trees of the high bluff 
a mansion, which exhibited the taste of its 
builder, rose imposingly. This was, however, 
but one of the many edifices that are tombs of 
buried hopes. The proprietor, a northern gen- 
tleman, after the war purchased one-third of 
Sapelo Island for fifty-five thousand dollars in 
gold. Pie attempted, as many other enterprising 



296 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

northerners had done, to give the late slave a 
chance to prove his worth as a freedman to the 
world. 

"Pay the negro wages; treat him as you 
would treat a white man, and he will reward 
your confidence with industry and gratitude." 
So thought and so acted the large-hearted north- 
ern colonel. He built a large mansion, engaged 
his fi-eedmen, paid them for their work, and 
treated them like men. The result was ruin, 
and simply because he had not paused to con- 
sider that the negro had not been born a freed- 
man, and that the demoralization of slavery was 
still upon him. Beside which facts we must 
also place certain ethnological and moral prin- 
ciples which exist in the pure negro type, and 
which are entirely overlooked by those philan- 
thropic persons who have rarely, if ever, seen a 
full-blooded negro, but affect to understand him 
through his haIf-v^\i\X.Q, brother, the mulatto. 

Mud River opened its wide mouth before me 
as I left the inlet, but the tide was very low, and 
Mud River is a sticking-point in the passage of 
the Florida steamers. It became so dark that I 
was obliged to get near the shore to make a 
landing. My attempt was made opposite a ne- 
gro's house which was on a bluff, but the water 
had receded into the very narrow channel of 
INIud River, and I was soon stuck fast on a flat. 
Getting overboard, I sank to my knees in the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 297 

soft mud. I called for help, and was answered 
by a tall darky, who, with a double-barrelled gun, 
left his house and stood in a threatening manner 
on the shore. I appealed for help, and said I 
wished to go ashore. " Den cum de best way 
3'ou can," he answered in a surly manner. "What 
duz you want 'bout here, any way? What duz 
you want on Choc'late Plantation, anyhow?" 

I explained to this ugly black that I was a 
northern man, travelling to see the country, and 
wished to camp near his house for protection, 
and promised, if he would aid me to land, that I 
would convince him of my honest purpose by 
showing him the contents of my canoe, and 
would prove to him that I was no enemy to the 
colored man. I told him of the maps, the let- 
ters, and the blankets which were in the little 
canoe now so fast in the mud, and what a loss it 
would be if some marauder, passing on the next 
high tide, should steal my boat. 

The fellow slowly lowered his gun, which had 
been held in a threatening position, and said: 

" Nobody knows his friends in dese times. I'se 
had a boat stealed by some white man, and spose 
you was cumin to steal sumting else. Dese folks 
on de riber can't be trussed. Dey steals ebry- 
ting. Heaps o' bad white men 'bout nowadays 
sens de war. Steals a nigger's chickens, boats, 
and ebryting dey lays hands on. Up at de big 
house on High Pint (norfen gemmin built him, 



298 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

and den got gusted wid cotton-planting and went 
home) de white folks goes and steals all de 
cheers and beds, and ebryting out ob de house. 
Sens de war all rascals." 

It was a wearisome and dangerous job for me 
to navigate the canoe over the soft, slippery mud 
to the firm shore, as there were unfathomed 
places in the flats which might ingulf or entomb 
me at any step; but the task was completed, and 
I stood face to face with the now half tranquillized 
negro. Before removing the mud that hung upon 
me to the waist in heavy clods, I showed the 
darky my chart-case, and explained the object 
of my mission. He was very intelligent, and, 
after asking a few questions, said to his son: 

"Take dis gun to de house; " and then turning 
to me, continued: " Dis is de sort ob man I'se am. 
I'se knows how to treat a friend like a white man, 
and I'se can fight wid my knife or my fist or my 
gun anybody who 'poses on me. Now I'se knows 
you is a gemmin I'se won't treat you like a nig- 
ger. Gib you best I'se got. Cum to de house." 

When inside of the house of this resolute 
black, ever}^ attention was paid to my comfort. 
The cargo of the paper canoe was piled up in 
one corner of the room. The wife and children 
sat before the bright fire and listened to the story 
of my cruise. I doctored the sick pickaninny of 
my host, and made the family a pot of strong cof- 
fee. This negro could read, but he asked me to 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 299 

address a label he wished to attach to a bag of 
Sea-Island cotton of one hundred and sixty 
pounds' weight, which he had raised, and was 
to ship by the steamboat Lizzie Baker to a mer- 
cantile house in Savannah. 

As I rested upon my blankets, which were 
spread upon the floor of the only comfortable 
room in the house, at intervals during the night 
the large form of the black stole softly in and bent 
over me to see if I were well covered up, and he 
as noiselessly piled live-oak sticks upon the dying 
embers to dry up the dampness which rose from 
the river. 

He brought me a basin of cold water in the 
morning, and not possessing a towel clean enough 
for a white man, he insisted that I should use his 
wife's newly starched calico apron to wipe my 
face and hands upon. When I offered him 
money for the night's accommodation and the 
excellent oyster breakfast that his wife prepared 
for me, he said: "You may gib my wife what- 
eber pleases you for her cookings but nuflfin for 
de food or de lodgings. I'se no nigger, ef I is 
a cullud man." 

It was now Saturday, and as I rowed through 
the marsh thoroughfare called New Tea Kettle 
Creek, which connects Mud River with Doboy 
Sound near the southern end of Sapelo Island, I 
calculated the chances of finding a resting-place 
for Sunday. If I went up to the mainland 



300 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

through North and Darlen rivers to the town of 
Darien, my past experience taught me that in- 
stead of enjoying rest I would become a forced 
exhibiter of the paper canoe to crowds of people. 
To avoid this, I determined to pass the day in 
the first hammock that would afford shelter and 
fire-wood ; but as the canoe entered Doboy 
Sound, which, with its inlet, separates Sapelo 
from the almost treeless Wolf Island, the wind 
rose with such violence that I was driven to take 
refuge upon Doboy Island, a small marshy terri- 
tory, the few firm acres of which were occupied 
by the settlement and steam saw-mill of Messrs. 
Hiltons, Foster & Gibson, a northern lumber firm. 

Foreign and American vessels were anchored 
under the lee of protecting marshes, awaiting 
their cargoes of sawed deals and hewn timber; 
while rafts of logs, w^hich had been borne upon 
the currents of the Altamaha and other streams 
from the far interior regions of pine forests, were 
collected here and manufactured into lumber. 

One of the proprietors, a northern gentleman, 
occupied with his family a very comfortable cot- 
tage near the store and steam saw-mill. As the 
Doboy people had learned of the approach of the 
paper canoe from southern newspapers, the little 
craft was identified as soon as it touched the low 
shores of the island. 

I could not find any kind of hotel or lodging- 
place in this settlement of Yankees, Canadians, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 30I 

and negroes, and was about to leave it in search 
of some lone hammock, when a mechanic kindly 
offered me the floor of an unfinished room in an 
unfinished house, in which I passed my Sunday 
trying to rest, and obtaining my meals at a res- 
taurant kept by a negro. 

A member of the Spaulding family, the own- 
ers of a part of Sapelo Island, called upon me, 
and seeing me in such inhospitable quarters, 
with fleas in hundreds invading my blankets, 
urged me to return with him to his island do- 
main, where he might have an opportunity to 
make me comfortable. The kind gentleman 
little knew how hardened I had become to such 
annoyances as hard floors and the active flea. 
Such inconveniences had been robbed of their 
discomforts by the kind voices of welcome 
which, with few exceptions, came from ever}' 
southern gentleman whose territory had been 
invaded by the paper canoe. 

There was but one place of worship on the 
island, and that was under the charge of the ne- 
groes. Accepting the invitation of a nephew of 
the resident New England proprietor of Doboy 
Island to attend " de shoutings," we set out on 
Sunday evening for the temporary place of negro 
worship. A negro girl, decked with ribbons, 
called across the street to a young colored delin- 
quent: "You no goes to de shoutings, Sam! 
Why fur? You neber hears me shout, honey, 



302 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

and dey do say I shouts so pretty. Cum 'long 
wid me now." 

A few blacks had collected in the small shanty, 
and the preacher, an old freedman, was about to 
read a hymn as we entered. At first the singing 
was low and monotonous, but it gradually swelled 
to a high pitch as the negroes became excited. 
Praying followed the singing. Then the black 
preacher set aside " de shouting " part of the 
service for what he considered more important 
interests, and discoursed upon things spiritual 
and temporal in this wise: 

"Now Fse got someting to tell all of yese 
berry 'portant." Here two young blacks got up 
to leave the room, but were rudely stopped by a 
negro putting his back against the door. " No, 
no," chuckled the preacher, "yese don't git off 
dat a-way. Fse prepared fur de ockasun. No- 
body gits out ob dis room till I'se had my say. 
Jes you set down dar. Now I'se goin' to do one 
ting, and it's dis: I'se goin' to spread de Gospel 
all ober dis yere island of Doboy. Now's de 
time; talked long 'nuf, too long, 'bout buildin' 
de church. Whar's yere pride? whar is it? Got 
none! Look at dis room for a church! Look 
at dis pulpit — one flour-barrel wid one candle 
stickin' out ob a bottle! Dat's yere pulpit. Got 
no pride! Shamed o' yeresefs! Here white 
men comes way from New York to hear de 
Gospel in dis yere room wid flour-barrel fur 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 303 

pulpit, and empty bottle fur candlestick. No 
more talk now. All go to work. De mill peo- 
ple will gib us lumber fur de new church; 
odders mus' gib money. Tell ebbry cuUud pus- 
son on de island to cum on Tuesday and carry 
lumber, and gib ebbry one what he can, — one 
dollar apiece, or ten cents if got no more. De 
white gemmins we knows whar to find when we 
wants dar money, but de cullud ones is berry 
slippery when de hat am passed round." 

At the termination of the preacher's exhorta- 
tion, I proposed to my companion that I should 
present the minister with a dollar for his new 
church, but, with a look of dismay, he replied: 
" Oh, don't give it to the -preacher. Hand it to 
that other negro sitting near him. We never 
trust the -preacher with money; he always 
spends the church-money. We only trust him 
for preachin^P 

Monday, March ist, opened fair, but the wind 
arose when the canoe reached Three Mile Cut, 
which connects the Darien with Altamaha River. 
I went through this narrow steamboat passage, 
and being prevented by the wind from entering 
the wide Altamaha, returned to the Darien 
River and ascended it to General's Cut, which, 
with Butler River, affords a passage to the Alta- 
maha River. Before entering General's Cut, 
mistaking a large, half submerged alligator for a 
log on a mud bank, the canoe nearly touched the 



304 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

saurian before he was roused from his nap to 
retire into the water. General's Cut penetrates 
a rice plantation opposite the town of Darien, 
to Butler's Island, the estate of the late Pierce 
Butler, at its southern end. Rice-planting, since 
the war, had not proved a very profitable busi- 
ness to the present proprietors, who deserve 
much praise for the efforts they have made to 
educate their freedmen. A profitable crop of 
oranges is gathered some seasons from the 
groves upon Butler's Island. 

From the mouth of General's Cut down But- 
ler River to the Altamaha was but a short row. 
The latter stream would have taken me to Alta- 
maha Sound, to avoid which I passed through 
Wood's Cut into the South Altamaha River, and 
proceeded through the lowland rice-plantations 
towards St. Simon's Island, which is by the sea. 
About the middle of the afternoon, when close 
to Broughton Island, where the South Altamaha 
presented a wide area to the strong head-wind 
which was sending little waves over my canoe, 
a white plantation-house, under the veranda of 
which an elderly gentleman was sitting, attracted 
my attention. Here was what seemed to be the 
last camping-ground on a route of several miles 
to St. Simon's Island. 

If the wind continued to blow from the same 
quarter, the canoe could not cross Buttermilk 
Sound that night; so I went ashore to inquire if 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 305 

there were any hammocks in the marshes by the 
river-banks between the plantation and the sound. 

The bachelor proprietor of Broughton Island, 
Captain Richard A. Akin, posted me as to the 
route to St. Simon's Island, but insisted that the 
canoe traveller should share his comfortable 
quarters until the next day; and when the next 
day came round, and the warm sun and smooth 
current of the wide Altamaha invited me to 
continue the voyage, the hospitable rice-planter 
thought the weather not settled enough for me 
to venture down to the sound. In fact, he held 
me a rather willing captive for several days, and 
then let me off on the condition that I should 
return at some future time, and spend a month 
with him in examining the sea islands and game 
resources of the vicinity. 

Captain Akin was a successful rice-planter on 
the new system of employing freedmen on wa- 
ges, but while he protected the ignorant blacks 
in all their newly-found rights, he was a thor- 
ough disciplinarian. The negroes seemed to 
like their employer, and stuck to him with 
greater tenacity than they did to those planters 
who allowed them to do as they pleased. The 
result of lax treatment with these people is al- 
ways a failure of crops. The rivers and swamps 
near Broughton Island abound in fine fishes and 
terrapin, while the marshes and flats of the sea 
islands afford excellent opportunities for the 
20 



3o6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

sportsman to try his skill upon the feathered 
tribe. 

On Monday, March 9th, the Maria Theresa 
left Broughton Island well provisioned with the 
stores the generous captain had pressed upon 
m}^ acceptance. The atmosphere was softened 
by balmy breezes, and the bright sunlight played 
with the shadows of the clouds upon the wide 
marshes, which were now growing green with 
the warmth of returning spring. The fish 
sprang from the water as I touched it with my 
light oars. 

St. Simon's Island, — where Mr. Pierce Butler 
once cultivated sea-island cotton, and to which 
he took his English bride, Miss Kemble, — with 
its almost abandoned plantation, was reached 
before ten o'clock. Frederica River carried me 
along the whole length of the island to St. 
Simon's Sound. When midway the island, I 
paused to survey what remains of the old town 
of Frederica, of which but few vestiges can be 
discovered. History informs us that Frederica 
was the first town built by the English in 
Georgia, and was founded by General Ogle- 
thorpe, who began and established the colony. 

The fortress was regular and beautiful, and was 
the largest, most regular, and perhaps most 
costly of any in North America of British con- 
struction. Pursuing my journey southward, the 
canoe entered the exposed area of St. Simon's 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 307 

Sound, which, with its ocean inlet, was easily 
crossed to the wild and picturesque Jekyl Island, 
upon which the two bachelor brothers Dubignon 
live and hunt the deer, enjoying the free life of 
lords of the forest. Their old family mansion, 
once a haven of hospitality, where the northern 
tourist and shipwrecked sailor shared alike the 
good things of this life with the kind host, was 
used for a target by a gunboat during the late 
war, and is now in ruins. 

Here, twenty years ago, at midnight, the slave- 
yacht "Wanderer" landed her cargo of African 
negroes, the capital for the enterprise being sup- 
plied by three southern gentlemen, and the ex- 
ecution of the work being intrusted, under care- 
fully drawn contracts, to Boston parties. 

The calm weather greatly facilitated my prog- 
ress, and had I not missed Jekyl Creek, which is 
the steamboat thoroughfare through the marshes 
to Jekyl and St. Andrew's Sound, that whole 
day's experience would have been a most happy 
one. The mouth of Jek}^ Creek was a narrow 
entrance, and being off in the sound, I passed it 
as I approached the lowlands, which were 
skirted until a passage at Cedar Hammock 
through the marsh was found, some distance 
from the one I was seeking. Into this I entered, 
and winding about for some time over its tor- 
tuous course, at a late hour in the afternoon the 
canoe emerged into a broad watercourse, down 



3o8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

which I could look across Jekyl Sound to the 
sea. 

This broad stream was Jointer Creek, and I 
ascended it to find a spot of high ground upon 
w^hich to camp. It was now low water, and the 
surface of the marshes was three or four feet 
above my head. After much anxious searching, 
and a great deal of rowing against the last of the 
ebb, a forest of pines and palmetto-trees was 
reached on Colonel's Island, at a point about four 
miles — across the marshes and Brunswick River 
— from the interesting old town of Brunswick, 
Georgia. 

The soft, muddy shores of the hammock were 
in one place enveloped in a thicket of reeds, and 
here I rested upon my oars to select a con- 
venient landing-place. The rustling of the reeds 
suddenly attracted my attention. Some animal 
was crawling through the thicket in the direction 
of the boat. My eyes became fixed upon the 
mysterious shaking and waving of the tops of the 
reeds, and my hearing was strained to detect the 
cause of the crackling of the dry rushes over 
which this unseen creature was moving. A 
moment later my curiosity was satisfied, for there 
emerged slowly from the covert an alligator 
nearly as large as my canoe. The brute's head 
was as long as a barrel; his rough coat of mail 
was besmeared with mud, and his dull eyes were 
fixed steadily upon me. I was so surprised and 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 309 

fascinated by the appearance of this huge reptile 
that I remained immovable in my boat, while he 
in a deliberate manner entered the water within 
a few feet of me. The hammock suddenly lost 
all its inviting aspect, and I pulled away from 
it faster than I had approached. In the gloom I 
observed two little hammocks, between Colonel's 
Island and the Brunswick River, which seemed 
to be near Jointer's Creek, so I followed the tor- 
tuous thoroughfares until I was within a quarter 
of a mile of one of them. 

Pulling my canoe up a narrow creek towards 
the largest hammock, until the creek ended in 
the lowland, I was cheered by the sight of a 
small house in a grove of live-oaks, to reach 
which I was obliged to abandon my canoe and 
attempt to cross the soft marsh. The tide was 
now rising rapidly, and it might be necessary for 
me to swim some inland creek before I could 
arrive at the upland. 

An oar was driven into the soft mud of the 
marsh and the canoe tied to it, for I knew that 
the whole country, with the exception of the 
hammock near by, would be under water at 
flood-tide. Floundering through mud and press- 
ing aside the tall, wire-like grass of the lowland, 
which entangled my feet, frequentl}^ leaping 
natural ditches, and going down with a thud in 
the mud on the other side, I finally struck the 
firm ground of the largest Jointer Hammock, 



3IO VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

when the voice of its owner, Mr. R. F. Williams, 
sounded most cheerfully in my ears as he ex- 
claimed: "Where did you come from? How 
did you get across the marsh?" 

The unfortunate position of my boat was 
explained while the family gathered round me, 
after which we sat down to supper. Mr. Wil- 
liams felt anxious about the cargo of my boat. 
" The coons," he said, " will scent your pro- 
visions, and tear everything to pieces in the 
boat. We must go look after it immediately." 
To go to the canoe we were obliged to follow a 
creek which swept past the side of the hammock, 
opposite to my landing-place, and row two or 
three miles on Jointer Creek. At nine o'clock 
we reached the locality where I had abandoned 
the paper canoe. Everything had changed in 
appearance J the land was under water; not a 
landmark remained except the top of the oar, 
which rose out of the lake-like expanse of 
water, while near it gracefully floated my little 
companion. We towed her to the hammock; 
and after the tedious labor of divesting myself 
of the marsh mud, which clung to my clothes, 
had been crowned with success, the comfortable 
bed furnished by my host gave rest to limbs and 
nerves which had been severely overtaxed since 
sunset. 

The following day opened cloudy and windy. 
The ocean inlet of Jekyl and St. Andrew's sounds 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 31I 

is three miles wide. From the mouth of Jointer 
Creek, across these unprotected sounds, to 
High Point of Cumberland Island, is eight 
miles. The route from the creek to Cumberland 
Island was a risky one for so small a boat as the 
paper canoe while the weather continued un- 
propitious. After entering the sounds there was 
but one spot of upland, near the mouth of the 
Satilla River, that could be used for camping 
purposes on the vast area of marshes. 

During the month of March rainy and windy 
weather prevail on this coast. I could ill afford 
to lose any time shut up in Jointer's Hammock 
by bad weather, as the low regions of Okefe- 
nokee Swamp were to be penetrated before the 
warm season could make the task a disagreeable 
one. After holding a consultation with Mr. 
Williams, he contracted to take the canoe and 
its captain across St. Andrew's Sound to High 
Point of Cumberland Island that day. His little 
sloop was soon under way, and though the short, 
breaking waves of the sound, and the furious 
blasts of wind, made the navigation of the shoals 
disagreeable, we landed quietly at Mr. Chubbs' 
Oriental Hotel, at High Point, soon after noon. 

Mr. Martin, the surveyor of the island, wel- 
comed me to Cumberland, and gave me much 
information pertaining to local matters. The 
next morning the canoe left the high bluffs of 
this beautiful sea island so filled with historic 



312 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

associations, and threaded the marshy thorough- 
fare of Cumberland and Brickhill River to Cum- 
berland Sound. As I approached the mouth of 
the St. Mary's River, the picturesque ruins of 
Dungeness towered above the live-oak forest 
of the southern end of Cumberland Island. 
It was with regret I turned my back upon that 
sea, the sounds of which had so long struck 
upon my ear with their sweet melody. It 
seemed almost a moan that was borne to me 
now as the soft waves laved the sides of my 
graceful craft, as though to give her a last, 
loving farewell. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 313 



CHAPTER XIV. 

ST. MARY'S RIVER AND THE SUWANEE WILDER- 
NESS. 

A PORTAGE TO DUTTON. — DESCENT OF THE ST. MARY'S RIVER. 
— FETE GIVEN BY THE CITIZENS TO THE PAPER CANOE. — 
THE PROPOSED CANAL ROUTE ACROSS FLORIDA. — A PORTAGE 
TO THE SUWANEE RIVER. — A NEGRO SPEAKS ON ELECTRIC- 
ITY AND THE TELEGRAPH. — A FREEDMAN'S SERMON. 

I NOW ascended the beautiful St. Mary's River, 
which flows from the great Okefenokee 
Swamp. The state of Georgia was on my right 
hand, and Florida on my left. Pretty hammocks 
dotted the marshes, while the country presented 
peculiar and interesting characteristics. When 
four miles from Cumberland Sound, the little city 
of St. Mary's, situated on the Georgia side of 
the river, was before me; and I went ashore to 
make inquiries concerning the route to Okefe- 
nokee Swamp. 

My object was to get iniormation about the 
upper St. Mary's River, from which I proposed 
to make a portage of thirty-five or forty miles in 
a westerly direction to the Suwanee River, 
upon arriving at which I would descend to the 



314 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

Gulf of Mexico. My efforts, both at St. Mary's 
and Fernandina, on the Florida side of Cum- 
berland Sound, to obtain any reliable information 
upon this matter, were unsuccessful. A settle- 
ment at Trader's Hill, about seventy-five miles 
up the St. Mary's River, was the geographical 
limit of local knowledge, while I wished to 
ascend the river at least one hundred miles be- 
yond that point. 

Believing that if I explored the uninhabited 
sources of the St. Mary's, I should be compelled 
to return without finding any settler upon its 
banks at the proper point of departure for a 
portage to the Suwanee, it became necessary to 
abandon all idea of ascending this river. I could 
not, however, give up the exploration of the 
route. In this dilemma, a kindly written letter 
seemed to solve the difficulties. Messrs. Dutton 
& Rixford, northern gentlemen, who possessed 
large facilities for the manufacture of resin and 
turpentine at their new settlements of Dutton, 
six miles from the St. Mary's River, and at Rix- 
ford, near the Suwanee, kindly proposed that I 
should take my canoe by railroad from Cumber- 
land Sound to Dutton. From that station Mr. 
Dutton offered to transport the boat through the 
wilderness to the St. Mary's River, which could 
be from that point easily descended to the sea. 
The Suwanee River, at Rixford, could be 
reached by rail, and the voyage would end at 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 315 

its debouchure on the marshy coast of the Gulf 
of Mexico. 

Hon. David Yulee, president and one-third 
owner of the A. G. & W. I. T. C. Railroad, which 
connects the Atlantic coast at Fernandina with 
the Gulf coast at Cedar Keys, offered me the 
free use of his long railroad, for any purpose of 
exploration, &c., while his son, Mr. C. Wick- 
liffe Yulee, exerted himself to remove all imped- 
iments to delay. 

These gentlemen, being native Floridians, 
have done much towards encouraging all legiti- 
mate exploration of the peninsula, and have 
also done something towards putting a check on 
the outrageous impositions practised on northern 
agricultural emigrants to Florida, by encouraging 
the organization of a railroad land-company, 
which offers a forty-acre homestead for fifty dol^ 
lars, to be selected out of nearly six hundred 
thousand acres of land along their highway 
across the state. A man of comparatively 
small means can now try the experiment of 
making a home in the mild climate of Florida, 
and if he afterwards abandons the enterprise 
there will have been but a small investment of 
capital, and consequently little loss. 

The turpentine distillery of Dutton was situated 
in a heavy forest of lofty pines. Major C. K. 
Dutton furnished a team of mules to haul the 
Maria Theresa to the St. Mary's River, the 



3l6 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

morning after my arrival by rail at Dutton Sta- 
tion. The warm sunshine shot aslant the tall 
pines as the teamster followed a faintly devel- 
oped trail towards the swamps. Before noon the 
flashing waters of the stream were discernible, 
and a little later, with paddle in hand, I was 
urgfino;' the canoe towards the Atlantic coast. A 
luxurious growth of trees and shrubs fringed 
the low, and in some places submerged, river 
shores. Back, on the higher, sandy soils, the 
yellow pine forests, in almost primeval grandeur, 
arose, shutting out all view of the horizon. Low 
bluffs, with white, sandy beaches of a few rods 
in extent, offered excellent camping-grounds. 

When the Cracker of Okefenokee Swamp is 
asked why he lives in so desolate a region, with 
only a few cattle and hogs for companions, with 
mosquitoes, fleas, and vermin about him, with 
alligators, catamounts, and owls on all sides, 
making night hideous, he usually replies, " Wal, 
stranger, wood and water is so -powerful handy. 
Sich privileges ain't met with everywhar." 

As I glided swiftly down the dark current I 
peered into the dense woods, hoping to be 
cheered by the sight of a settler's cabin; but in 
all that day's search not a clearing could be 
found, nor could I discern rising from the tree- 
tops of the solitary forest a little cloud of smoke 
issuing from the chimney of civilized man. I 
was alone in the vast wilds through which the 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 317 

beautiful river flowed noiselessl}^ but swiftly to 
the sea. Thoreau loved a swamp, and so do all 
lovers of nature, for nowhere else does she so 
bountifully show her vigorous powers of growth, 
her varied wealth of botanical wonders. Here 
the birds resort in flocks when weary of the hot, 
sandy uplands, for here they find pure water, 
cool shade, and many a curious glossy berry for 
their dainty appetites. 

As the little Maria Theresa sped onward 
through the open forest and tangled wild-wood, 
through wet morass and piny upland, my 
thoughts dwelt upon the humble life of the 
Concord naturalist and philosopher. How he 
would have enjoyed the descent of this wild 
river from the swamp to the sea! He had left 
us for purer delights; but I could enjoy his 
^'Walden" as though he still lived, and read of his 
studies of nature with ever-increasing interest.. 

Swamps have their peculiar features. Those 
of the Waccamaw were indeed desolate, while 
the swamps of the St. Mary's were full of sun- 
shine for the traveller. Soon after the canoe 
had commenced her river journey, a sharp sound, 
like that produced by a man striking the water 
with a broad, flat stick, reached my ears. As 
this sound was frequently repeated, and always 
in advance of my boat, it roused my curiosity. 
It proved to come from alligators. One after 
another slipped ofl* the banks, striking the water 



3l8 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

with their tails as they took refuge in the river 
from the disturber of their peace. To observe 
the movements of these reptiles I ran the canoe 
within two rods of the left shore, and by rapid 
paddling was enabled to arrive opposite a crea- 
ture as he entered the water. When thus con- 
fronted, the alligator would depress his ugly 
head, lash the water once with his tail, and dive 
under the canoe, a most thoroughly alarmed an- 
imal. All these alligators were mere babies, 
very few being over four feet long. Had they 
been as large as the one which greeted me at 
Colonel's Island, I should not have investigated 
their dispositions, but would have considered 
discretion the better part of valor, and left them 
undisturbed in their sun-baths on the banks. 

In all my experience with the hundreds of 
alligators I have seen in the southern rivers 
and swamps of North America, every one, both 
large and small, fled at the approach of man. 
The experience of some of my friends in their 
acquaintance with American alligators has been 
of a more serious nature. It is well to exercise 
care about camping at night close to the water 
infested with large saurians, as one of these 
strong fellows could easily seize a sleeping man 
by the leg and draw him into the river. They 
do not seem to fear a recumbent or bowed fig- 
ure, but, like most wild animals, flee before the 
upright form of man. 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 319 

Late in the afternoon I passed an island, made 
by a " cut-off" through a bend of the river, and, 
according to previous directions, counted four- 
teen bends or reaches in the river which w^as to 
guide me to Stewart's Ferry, the owner of which 
lived back in the woods, his cabin not being dis- 
cernible from the river. Near this spot, which 
is occasionally visited by lumbermen and piny- 
woods settlers, I drew my canoe on to a sandy 
beach one rod in length. A little bluff, five or 
six feet above the water, furnished me with the 
broad leaves of the saw-palmetto, a dwarfish sort 
of palm, which I arranged for a bed. The pro- 
vision-basket was placed at my head. A little 
fire of light-wood cheered me for a while, but its 
bright flame soon attracted winged insects in 
large numbers. Having made a cup of choco- 
late, and eaten some of Captain Akin's chipped 
beef and crackers, I continued my preparations 
for the night. Feeling somewhat nervous about 
large alligators, I covered myself with a piece of 
painted canvas, which was stiff and strong, and 
placed the little revolver, my only weapon, under 
my blanket. 

As I fully realized the novelty of my strange 
position in this desolate region, it was some time 
before I could compose myself and sleep. It 
was a night of dreams. Sounds indistinct but 
numerous troubled my brain, until I was fully 
roused to wakefulness by horrible visions and 



320 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

doleful cries. The chuck- will's-widow, which 
in the south supplies the place of our whip- 
poorwill, repeated his oft-told tale of " chuck- 
will's-widow, chuck-will's-widow," with untir- 
ing earnestness. The owls hooted wildly, with 
a chorus of cries from animals and reptiles not 
recognizable by me, excepting the snarling voices 
of the coons fighting in the forest. These last 
were old acquaintances, however, as they fre- 
quently gathered round my camp at night to pick 
up the remains of supper. 

While I listened, there rose a cry so hideous in 
its character and so belligerent in its tone, that I 
trembled with fear upon my palm-leaf mattress. 
It resembled the bellowing of an infuriated bull, 
but was louder and more penetrating in its effect. 
The proximity of this animal was indeed un- 
pleasant, for he had planted himself on the riv- 
er's edge, near the little bluff upon which my 
camp had been constructed. The loud roar was 
answered by a similar bellow from the other side 
of the river, and for a long time did these two 
male alligators keep up their challenging cries, 
without coming to combat. Numerous wood- 
mice attacked my provision-basket, and even 
worked their way through the leaves of my pal- 
metto mattress. 

Thus with an endless variety of annoyances 
the night wore wearily away, but the light of the 
rising sun did not penetrate the thick fog which 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 32 1 

enveloped the river until after eight o'clock, 
when I embarked for a second day's journey 
upon the stream, which had now attained a width 
of five or six rods. Rafts of logs blocked the 
river as I approached the settlement of Trader's 
Hill, and upon a most insecure footing the canoe 
was dragged over a quarter of a mile of logs, 
and put into the water on the lower side of the 
"jam." Crossing several of these log "jams," 
which covered the entire width of the St. Mary's, 
I became weary of the task, and, after the last 
was reached, determined to go into camp until 
the next day, when suddenly the voices of men 
in the woods were heard. 

Soon a gentleman, with two raftsmen, ap- 
peared and kindly greeted me. They had been 
notified of my approach at Trader's Hill by a 
courier sent from Dutton across the woods, and 
these men, whose knowledge of wood-craft is 
wonderful, had timed my movements so cor- 
rectly that they had arrived just in time to meet 
me at this point. The two raftsmen rubbed the 
canoe all over with their hands, and expressed 
delight at its beautiful finish in their own pe- 
culiar vernacular. 

" She 's the dog-gonedest thing I ever seed, 
and jist as putty as a new coffin ! " exclaimed one. 

" Indeed, she 's the handsomest trick I ever 



»? 



did blink on," said the second. 

The two stalwart lumbermen lifted the boat as 
21 



322 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

though she were but a feather, and carried her, 
jumping from log to log, the whole length of the 
raft. They then put her gently in the water, and 
added to their farewell the cheering intelligence 
that "there's no more jams nor rafts 'twixt here 
and the sea, and you can go clar on to New 
York if you like." 

Trader's Hill, on a very high bluff on the left 
bank, was soon passed, when the current seemed 
suddenly to cease, and I felt the first tidal effect 
of the sea, though many miles from the coast. 
The tide was flooding. I now laid aside the 
paddle, and putting the light steel outriggers in 
their sockets, rapidly rowed down the now broad 
river until the shadows of night fell upon forest 
and stream, when the comfortable residence of 
Mr. Lewis Davis, with his steam saw-mill, came 
into sight upon Orange Bluff, on the Florida side 
of the river. Here a kind welcome greeted me 
from host and hostess, who had dwelt twenty 
years in this romantic but secluded spot. There 
were orange-trees forty years old on this prop- 
erty, and all in fine bearing order. There was 
also a fine sulphur spring near the house. 

Mr. Davis stated that, during a residence of 
twenty years in this charming locality, he had 
. experienced but one attack of chills. He con- 
sidered the St. Mary's River, on account of the 
purity of its waters, one of the healthiest of 
southern streams. The descent of this beautiful 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 323 

river now became a holiday pastime. Though 
there were but few signs of the existence of 
man, the scenery was of a cheering character. 
A brick-kiln, a few saw-mills, and an abandoned 
rice-plantation were passed, while the low salt- 
marshes, extending into the river from the forest- 
covered upland, gave evidence of the proximity 
to the sea. Large alligators were frequently seen 
sunnins: themselves uDon the ed2:es of the banks. 

At dusk the town of St. Mary's, in its wealth 
of foliage, opened to my view from across the 
lowlands, and soon after the paper canoe was 
carefully stored in a building belonging to one 
of its hospitable citizens, while local authority 
asserted that I had traversed one hundred and 
seventy-five miles of the river. 

One evening, while enjoying the hospitality 
of Mr. Silas Fordam, at his beautiful winter 
home, " Orange Hall," situated in the heart of 
St. Mary's, a note, signed by the Hon. J. M. Ar- 
now, mayor of the city, was handed me. Mr. 
Arnow, in the name of the city government, in- 
vited my presence at the Spencer House. Upon 
arriving at the hotel, a surprise awaited me. 
The citizens of the place had gathered to wel- 
come the paper -canoe and its owner, and to 
express the kindly feelings they, as southern cit- 
izens, held towards their northern friends. The 
hotel was decorated with flags and floral em- 
blems, one of which expressed, in its ingeniously 



324 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

constructed words, wrought in flowers, ^^One 
hundred thousand WelcomesP 

The mayor and his friends received me upon 
the veranda of the hotel with kind words of 
welcome. Bright lights glimmered at this mo- 
ment through the long avenue of trees, and 
music arose upon the night air. It was a torch- 
light procession coming from the river, bearing 
upon a framework structure, from which hung 
Chinese lanterns and wreaths of laurel, the little 
paper canoe. The Base-ball Club of the cit}^, 
dressed in their handsome uniform, carried the 
"Maria Theresa," while the sailors from the 
lumber fleet in the river, with the flags of several 
nationalities, brought up the rear. 

When the procession arrived in front of the 
hotel, three hearty cheers were given by the 
people, and the mayor read the city's address of 
welcome to me; to which I made reply, not only 
in behalf of myself, but of all those of my coun- 
trymen who desired the establishment of a pure 
and good government in every portion of our 
dear land. 

Mayor Arnow presented me with an engrossed 
copy of his speech of welcome, in which he in- 
vited all industrious northerners to come to his 
native city, promising that city ordinances should 
be passed to encourage the erection of manufac- 
tories, &c., by northern capital and northern 
labor. After the address, the wife of the mayor 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 325 

presented me with two memorial banners, in the 
name of the ladies of the city. These were made 
for the occasion, and being the handiwork of the 
ladies themselves, were highly appreciated by 
the recipient. When these graceful tributes had 
been received, each lady and child present de- 
posited a bouquet of flowers, grown in the gardens 
of St. Mary's, in my little craft, till it contained 
about four hundred of these refined expressions 
of the good- will of these kind people. Not only 
did the native population of the town vie with 
each other to accord the lonely voyager a true 
southern welcome, but Mr. A. Curtis, an English 
gentleman, who, becoming fascinated with the 
fine climate of this part of Georgia, had settled 
here, did all he could to show his appreciation 
of canoe-travelling, and superintended the ma- 
rine display and flag corps of the procession. 

I left St. Mary's with a strange longing to re- 
turn to its interesting environs, and to study here 
the climatology of southern Georgia, for, strange 
to say, cases of local " fever and chills " have 
never originated in the city. It is reached from 
Savannah by the inside steamboat route, or by 
rail, to Fernandina, with which it is connected 
by a steamboat ferry eight miles in length. Spec- 
ulation not having yet affected the low valuation 
placed upon property around St. Mary's, northern 
men can obtain winter homes in this attractive 
town at a very low cost. This city is a port of 



326 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

entry. Mr. Joseph Shepard, a most faithful 
government officer, has filled the position of 
collector of customs for several years. 

As vessels of considerable tonnage can ascend 
the St. Mary's River from the sea on a full tide 
to the wharves of the city, its citizens prophesy a 
future growth and development for the place 
when a river and canal route across the penin- 
sula between the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of 
Mexico shall have been completed. For many 
years Colonel Raiford has been elaborating his 
plan " for elongating the western and southern 
inland system of navigation to harbors of the At- 
lantic Ocean." He proposes to unite the natural 
watercourses of the coast of the Gulf of Mexico 
by short canals, so that barges drawing seven feet 
of water, and freighted with the produce of the 
Mississippi River and its tributaries, may pass 
from New Orleans eastward to the southern ports 
of the Atlantic States. The great peninsula of 
Florida would be crossed by these vessels from 
the Suwanee to the St. Mary's River by means 
of a canal cut through the Okefenokee Swamp, 
and this route would save several hundred miles 
of navigation upon open ocean waters. The 
dangerous coral reefs of the Florida and Bahama 
shores would be avoided, and a land-locked 
channel of thirty thousand miles of navigable 
watercourses would be united in one system. 

Lieutenant-Colonel Q. A. Gilmore's report on 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 327 

"Water Line for Transportation from the Mouth 
of the St. Mary's River, on the Atlantic Coast, 
through Okefenokee Swamp and the State of 
Florida to the Gulf of Mexico," in which the 
able inquirer discusses this water route, has re- 
cently been published. I traversed a portion of 
this route in 1875-6, from the head of the Ohio 
River to New Orleans, and along the shores of 
the Gulf of Mexico to Cedar Keys, in a cedar 
duck-boat; and as the results of my observations 
may some day be made public, I will at this 
time refer the reader, if he be interested in the 
important enterprise, to the Congressional reports 
which describe the feasibility of the plan. 

Another portage by rail was made in order to 
complete my journey to the Gulf of Mexico, and 
Rixford, near the Suwanee River, was reached 
via the A. G. & W. I. T. C. Railroad to Baldwin, 
thence over the J. P. & M. Railroad to Live Oak, 
where another railroad from the north connects, 
and along which, a few miles from Live Oak, 
Messrs. Dutton & Rixford had recently estab- 
lished their turpentine and resin works. 

At Rixford I found myself near the summit, or 
backbone of Florida, from which the tributaries 
of the water-shed flow on one side to the Atlan- 
tic Ocean, and on the other to the Gulf of Mexico. 
It was a high region of rolling country, heavily 
wooded Avith magnificent pine forests, rich in 
terebinthine resources. The residence of the 



328 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

proprietor, the store and the distillery, with a few 
log cabins inhabited by negroes and white em- 
ployes, made up the establishment of Rixford. 

The Crackers and negroes came from long 
distances to see the paper boat. One afternoon, 
when a number of people had gathered at Rix- 
ford to behold the little craft, I placed it on one 
of those curious sheets of water of crystal purity 
called in that region a sink', and though this 
nameless, mirror-like lakelet did not cover over 
an acre in extent, the movements of the little 
craft, when propelled by the double paddle, ex- 
cited an enthusiasm which is seldom exhibited 
by the piny-woods people. 

As the boat was carefully lifted from the sil- 
very tarn, one woman called out in a loud voice, 
"Lake Theresa! " and thus, by mutual consent 
of every one present, did this lakelet of crystal 
waters receive its name. 

The blacks crowded around the canoe, and 
while feeling its firm texture, and wondering at 
the long distance it had traversed, expressed 
themselves in their peculiar and original way. 
One of their number, known as a " tonguey nig- 
ger," volunteered to explain the wonder to the 
somewhat confused intellects of his companions. 
To a question from one negro as to " How did 
dis yere Yankee-man cum all dis fur way in de 
^^^gr canoe, all hissef lone?" th.Q^'^ educated''^ 
negro replied: "It's all de Lord. No man ken 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 329 

cum SO fur in Rpaperhoat ef de Lord didn't help 
him. De Lord does eberyting. He puts de tings 
in de Yankee-man's heads to du um, an' dey duz 
um. Dar was de big Franklin up norf, dat made 
de telegraf. Did ye eber har tell ob him?" 

"Neber, neber! " responded all the negroes. 

Then, with a look of supreme contempt for 
the ignorance of his audience, the orator pro- 
ceeded: "Dis great Franklin, Cap^n Franklin, 
he tort he'd kotch de litening and make de tele- 
graf; so he flies a big kite way up to de heabens, 
an' he puts de string in de bottle dat hab nufing 
in it. Den he holds de bottle in one hand, an' he 
holds de cork in de udder hand. Down cums 
de litening and fills de bottle yuH up, and Cap'n 
Franklin he dun cork him up mighty quick, and 
kotched de litening an' made de telegraf. But 
it was de Lord — de Lord, not Cap'n Franklin — 
dat did all dis." 

It was amusing to watch the varied expression 
of the negroes, as they listened to this description 
of the discovery of electricity, and the origin of 
the telegraph. Their eyes dilated with wonder, 
and their thick lips parted till the mouth, grow- 
ing wider and wider, seemed to cover more than 
its share of the face. The momentary silence was 
soon broken by a deep gurgle proceeding from a 
stolid-looking negro, as he exclaimed: "Did he 
kotch de bottle y}^// ob. litening, and cork him 
up. Golly! I tort he wud hab dusted hissef ! " 



330 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

"So he wud! so he wud!" roared the orator, 
"but ye see 'twas all de Lord — de Lord's a- 
doing it." 

While in Florida I paid some attention to the 
negro method of conducting praise meetings, 
which they very appropriately call " de shout- 
ings." If I give some verbatim reports of the 
negro's curious and undignified clerical efforts, 
it is not done for the purpose of caricaturing 
him, nor with a desire to make him appear desti- 
tute of mental calibre; but rather with the hope 
that the picture given may draw some sympathy 
from the liberal churches of the north, which do 
not forget the African in his native jungle, nor the 
barbarous islanders of the South Seas. A well- 
informed Roman Catholic priest told me that 
he had been disappointed with the progress his 
powerfully organized church had made in con- 
verting the freedmen. Before going among them 
I had supposed that the simple-minded black, 
now no longer a slave, would be easily attracted 
to the impressive ceremonies of the Church of 
Rome; but after witnessing the activity of their 
devotions, and observing how anxious they are 
to take a conspicuous and a leading part in all 
religious services, it seemed to me that the free 
black of the south would take more naturally to 
Methodism than to any other form of Chris- 
tianity. 

The appointment of local preachers would be 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 33 1 

especially acceptable to the negro, as he would 
then be permitted to have ministers of his own 
color, and of his own neighborhood, to lead the 
meetings; while the Roman Catholic priest 
would probably treat him more like a child, and 
would therefore exercise a strong discipline over 
him. 

In one of their places of worship, at my re- 
quest, a New York lady, well skilled in rapid 
writing and familiar with the negro vernacular, 
reported verbatim the negro preacher's sermon. 
The text was the parable of the ten virgins; and 
as the preacher went on, he said: "Five ob dem 
war wise an' five of dem war foolish. De wise jes 
gone an' dun git dar lamps full up ob oil, and 
git rite in and see de bridegoom; an' de foolish 
dey sot dem rite down on de stool ob do-noting, 
an' dar dey sot till de call cum; den dey run, 
pick up der ole lamps and try to push door in, 
but de Lord say to dem, ^ Git out dar! you jes git 
out dar! ' an' shut door rite in dar face. 

" My brudders and my sisters, yer must fill de 
lamps wid de gospel an' de edication ob Moses, 
fur Moses war a larned man, an' edication is de 
mos estaminable blessin'' a pusson kin hab in 
dis world. 

"Hole-on to de gospel! Ef you see dat de 
flag am tore, get hole somewhar, keep a grabblin 
until ye git hole ob de stick, an' nebah gib up de 
stick, but grabble, grabble till ye die; for dough 



332 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

yer sins be as black as scarlet, dey shall be white 
as snow." 

The sermon over, the assembled negroes then 
sung in slow measure: 

" Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve — 
Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet- tar be-a-lieve — 
Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve — 
I'll git home to heav-en when I die. 

Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain, 
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain. 
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain, 

I'll git home to heav-en when I die. 

Lord wish-ed I was in heav-en. 
Fur to see my mudder when she enter, 
Fur to see her tri-als an' long white robes : 
She'll shine like cristul in de sun. 

Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain. 
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain, 
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain, 

I'll sit home to heav-en when I die." 



While visiting a town in Georgia, where the 
negroes had made some effort to improve their 
condition, I made a few notes relating to the 
freedman's debating society of the place. Affect- 
ing high-sounding words, they called their organ- 
ization, " De Lycenum," and its doings were 
directed by a committee of two persons, called 
respectively, " de disputaceous visitor," and " de 
lachrymal visitor." What particular duties de- 
volved upon the " lachrymal visitor," I could 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 333 

never clearly ascertain. One evening these 
negroes debated upon the following theme, 
^*^ Which is de best — when ye are out ob a ting, 
or when ye hab got it? " which was another form 
of expressing the old question, " Is there more 
pleasure in possession than in anticipation?" 
Another night the colored orators became in- 
tensely excited over the query, "Which is de 
best, Spring Water or Matches?" 

The freedmen, for so unfortunate a class, seem 
to be remarkably well behaved. During several 
journeys through the southern states I found 
them usually temperate, and very civil in their 
intercourse with the whites, though it must be 
confessed that but few of them can apply them- 
selves steadily and persistently to manual labor, 
either for themselves or their employers. 



334 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



CHAPTER XV. 

DOWN UPON THE SUWANEE RIVER. 

THE RICH FOLIAGE OF THE RIVER. — COLUMBUS. — ROLINS' 
BLUFF. — OLD TOWN HAMMOCK. — A HUNTER KILLED BY A 
PANTHER. — DANGEROUS SERPENTS. — CLAY LANDING. — THE 
MARSHES OF THE COAST. — BRADFORD'S ISLAND. — MY LAST 
CAMP. — THE VOYAGE ENDED. 

SOME friends, among whom were Colonel 
George W. Nason, Jr., of Massachusetts, 
and Major John Purviance, Commissioner of 
Suwanee County, offered to escort the paper 
canoe down " the river of song " to the Gulf of 
Mexico, a distance, according to local authorit}', 
of two hundred and thirty-live miles. While 
the members of the party were preparing for the 
■journey, Colonel Nason accompanied me to the 
river, v^^hich was less than three miles from Rix- 
ford, the proprietors of which sent the canoe 
after us on a wagon drawn by mules. The point 
of embarkation was the Lower Mineral Springs, 
the property of Judge Bryson. 

The Suwanee, which was swollen by some 
recent rains in Okefenokee Swamp, was a wild, 
dark, turbulent current, which went coursing 
throusih the woods on its tortuous route with 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 335 

great rapidit}^ The luxurious foliage of the 
river-banks was remarkable. Maples were in 
blossom, beech-trees in bloom, while the buck- 
eye was covered with its heavy festoons of red 
flowers. Pines, willows, cotton-wood, two kinds 
of hickory, water-oak, live-oak, sweet-gum, 
magnolia, the red and white bay-tree, a few red- 
cedars, and haw-bushes, with many species not 
known to me, made up a rich wall of verdure on 
either side, as I sped along with a light heart to 
Columbus, where my compagnojis de voyage 
were to meet me. Wood-ducks and egrets, in 
small flocks, inhabited the forest. The lime- 
stone banks of the river were not visible, as the 
water was eighteen feet above its low summer 
level. 

I now passed under the railroad bridge which 
connects Live Oak with Savannah. After a 
steady row of some hours, my progress was 
checked by a great boom, stretched across the 
river to catch the logs which floated down from 
the upper country. I was obliged to disembark 
and haul the canoe around this obstacle, when, 
after passing a few clearings, the long bridge of 
the J. P. & M. Railroad came into view, stretching 
across the now wide river from one wilderness 
to the other. On the left bank was all that 
remained of the once flourishing town of Colum- 
bus, consisting now of a store, kept by Mr. 
Allen, and a few buildings. Before the railroad 



33^ VOYAGE OF THE PAl'ER CANOE. 

was built, Columbus possessed a population of 
five hundred souls, and it was reached, during 
favorable stages of water, by light-draught steam- 
boats from Cedar Keys, on the Gulf of Mexico. 
The building of railroads in the south has 
diverted trade from one locality to another, and 
many towns, once prosperous, have gone to 
decay. 

The steam saw-mills and village of Ellaville 
were located on the river-bank opposite Colum- 
bus, and this lumber establishment is the only 
place of importance between it and Cedar Keys. 
This far-famed river, to which the heart of the 
minstrel's darky " is turning eber," is, in fact, 
almost without the " one little hut among de 
bushes," for it is a wild and lonely stream. 
Even in the most prosperous times there were 
but few plantations upon its shores. Wild ani- 
mals roam its great forests, and vile reptiles 
infest the dense swamps. It is a country well 
fitted for the hunter and lumberman, for the 
naturalist or canoeist; but the majority of people 
would, I am sure, rather hear of it poured forth 
in song from the sweet lips of Christina Nilsson, 
than to be themselves "way down upon the 
Suwanee Ribber." 

On Monday, March 22d, Messrs. Nason, Pur- 
viance, and Henderson joined me. The party 
had obtained a northern-built shad-boat, which 
had been brought by rail from Savannah. It 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 337 

was sloop-rigged, and was decked forward, so 
that the enthusiastic tourists possessed a weather- 
proof covering for their provisions and blankets. 
With the strong current of the river, a pair of 
long oars, and a sail to be used when favorable 
winds blew, the party in the shad-boat could 
make easy and rapid progress towards the Gulf, 
while my lightly dancing craft needed scarcely 
a touch of the oar to send her forward. 

On Tuesday, the 23d, we left Columbus, while 
a crowd of people assembled to see us off, many 
of them seeming to consider this simple and de- 
lightful way of travelling too dangerous to be 
attempted. The smooth but swift current rolled 
on its course like a sea of molten glass, as the 
soft sunlight trembled through the foliage and 
shimmered over its broad surface. 

Our boats glided safely over the rapids, which 
for a mile and a half impede the navigation of 
the river during the summer months, but which 
were now made safe by the great depth of water 
caused by the freshet. The weather was charm- 
ing, and our little party, fully alive to all the 
beautiful surroundings, woke many an echo with 
sounds meant to be sweet. Of course the good 
old song was not forgotten. Our best voice 
sang: 

" Way down up-on de Suwanee Rib-ber, 
Far, far away, 
Dere's whar my heart is turn-ing eb-ber, 
Dere's whar de old folks stay. 
22 



338 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

All up and down de whole creation 

Sadly I roam, 
Still longing for de old plantation, 
And for de old folks at home. 

" All round de little farm I wander'd 
When I was young ; 
Den many happy days I squan-der'd — 

Many de songs I sung. 
When I was playing wid my brud-der, 

Hap-py was I. 
O ! take me to my kind old mud-der, 
Dere let me live and die ! 

"One little hut among de bushes, — 

One dat I love, — 

Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes, 

No matter where I rove. 
When will I see de bees a-hum-ming 

All round de comb ? 
When will I hear de ban-jo tum-ming 
Down in my good old home ? " 

We all joined in the chorus at the end of each 
verse : 

" All de world am sad and dreary 
Eb-ry-whar I roam. 
O, darkies, how my heart grows weary. 
Far from de old folks at home." 

We soon entered forests primeval which were 
quiet, save for the sound of the axe of the log- 
thief, for timber-stealing is a profession which 
reaches its greatest perfection on the Florida 
state lands and United States naval reserves. 
Uncle Sam's territory is being constantly plun- 
dered to supply the steam saw-mills of private 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 339 

individuals in Florida. Several of the party told 
interesting stories of the way in w^hicFi log-thieves 
managed to steal from the government legally. 

"There," said one, "is X, w^ho runs his mill 
on the largest tract of pine timber Uncle Sam 
has got. He once bought a few acres' claim 
adjacent to a fine naval reserve. He was not, 
of course, able to discover the boundary line 
which separated his little tract from the rich 
government reserve, so he kept a large force 
of men cutting down Uncle Sam's immense 
pines, and, hauling them to the Suwanee, floated 
them to his mill. This thing went on for some 
time, till the government agent made his appear- 
ance and demanded a settlement. 

"The wholesale timber-thief now showed a 
fair face, and very frankly explained that he sup- 
posed he had been cutting logs from his own 
territory, but quite recently he had discovered 
that he had really been trespassing on the prop- 
erty of his much-loved country, and as he was 
truly a loyal citizen, he desired to make restitu- 
tion, and was now ready to settle. 

" The orovernment accent was astonished at the 
seeming candor of the man, who so worked upon 
his sympathy that he promised to be as easy 
upon him as the law allowed. The agent set- 
tled upon a valuation of fifty cents an acre for 
all the territory that had been cut over. * And 
now,' said he, ^ how many acres of land have 



340 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

you " logged " since you put your lumbermen 
into the forest? ' 

" Mr. X declared himself unable to answer 
this question, but generously offered to permit 
the agent to put down an}' number of acres he 
thought would represent a fair thing between 
a kind government and one of its unfortunate 
citizens. Intending to do his duty faithfully, the 
officer settled upon two thousand acres as having 
been trespassed upon; but to his astonishment the 
incomprehensible offender stoutly affirmed that he 
had logged fully five thousand acres, and at once 
settled the matter in full by paying twenty-five 
hundred dollars, taking a receipt for the same. 

" When this enterprising business-man visited 
Jacksonville, his friends rallied him upon con- 
fessing judgment to government for three thou- 
sand acres of timber more than had been claimed 
by the agent. This true -patriot winked as he 
replied: 

" ^ It is true I hold a receipt from the govern- 
ment for the timber on five thousand acres at 
the very low rate of fifty cents an acre. As I 
have not yet cut logs from more than one-fifth 
of the tract, / intend to work off the timber on 
the other four thousand acres at my leisure, and 
no power can stop me now I have the govern- 
ment receipt to show it's paid for.' " 

The sloop and the canoe had left Columbus a 
little before noon, and at six p. m. we passed 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 34 I 

Charles' Ferry, where the old St. Augustine 
and Tallahassee forest road crosses the river. 
At this lonely place an old man, now dead, 
owned a subterranean spring, which he called 
" Mediterranean passage." This spring is power- 
ful enough to run a rickety, " up-and-down " 
saw-mill. The great height of the water al- 
lowed me to paddle into the mill with my canoe. 

At half past seven o'clock a deserted log 
cabin at Barrington's Ferry offered us shelter for 
the night. The whole of the next day we rowed 
through the same immense forests, finding no 
more cultivated land than during our first day's 
voyage. We landed at a log cabin in a small 
clearing to purchase eggs of a poor woman, 
whose husband had shot her brother a few days 
before. As the wife's brother had visited the 
cabin with the intention of killing the husband, 
the woman seemed to think the murdered man 
had "got his desarts," and, as a coroner's jury 
had returned a verdict of "justifiable homicide,'' 
the affair was considered settled. 

Below this cabin we came to Island No. i, 
where rapids trouble boatmen in the summer 
months. Now we glided gently but swiftly over 
the deep current. The few inhabitants we met 
along the banks of the Suwanee seemed to carry 
with them an air of repose while awake. To 
rouse them from mid-day slumbers we would 
call loudly as we passed a cabin in the woods. 



342 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

and after considerable delay a man would appear 
at the door, rubbing his eyes as though the genial 
sunlight was oppressive to his vision. It was 
indeed a quiet, restful region, this great wilder- 
ness of the Suwanee. 

We passed Mrs. Goodman's farm and log 
buildings on the left bank, just below Island 
No. 8, before noon, and about this time Major 
Purviance shot at a large wild turkey (^Melea- 
gris g-allopavo), knocking it off a bank into the 
water. The gobbler got back to land, and led 
us a fruitless chase into the thicket of saw-pal- 
metto. He knew his ground better than we, for, 
though wounded, he made good his escape. 
We stopped a few moments at Troy, which, 
though dignified in name, consists only of a 
store and some half dozen buildinsrs. 

A few miles below this place, on the left 
bank of the river, is an uninhabited elevation 
called Rolins' Bluff, from which a line running 
north 22° east, twenty-three miles and a half in 
length, will strike Live Oak. A charter to con- 
nect Live Oak with this region of the Suwanee 
by means of a railroad had just passed the Flor- 
ida legislature, but had been killed by the veto 
of the governor. After sunset the boats were 
secured in safe positions in front of a deserted 
cabin, round which a luxuriant growth of bitter- 
oransfe trees showed what nature could do for 
this neglected grove. The night air was balmy, 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 343 

and tremulous with insect life, while the alliga- 
tors in the swamps kept up their bellowings till 
morning. 

After breakfast we descended to the mouth of 
the Santa Fe River, which was on the left bank 
of the Suwanee. The piny-woods people called 
it the Santaffy. The wilderness below the Santa 
Fe is rich in associations of the Seminole Indian 
war. Many relics have been found, and, among 
others, on the site of an old Indian town, en- 
tombed in a hollow tree, the skeletons of an 
Indian adult and child, decked with beads, were 
discovered. Fort Fanning is on the left bank, 
and Old Town Hammock on the right bank of 
the Suwanee. 

During the Seminole war, the hammock and 
the neighboring fastnesses became the hiding- 
places of the persecuted Indians, and so wild 
and undisturbed is this region, even at this time, 
that the bear, lynx, and panther take refuge from 
man in its jungles. 

Colonel J. L. F. Cottrell left his native Vir- 
ginia in 1854, and commenced the cultivation of 
the virgin soil of Old Town Hammock. Each 
state has its peculiar mode of dividing its land, 
and here in Florida this old plantation was in 
township 10, section 24, range 13. The estate 
included about two thousand acres of land, of 
which nearly eleven hundred were under culti- 
vation. The slaves whom the colonel brought 



344 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

from Virginia were now his tenants, and he 
leased them portions of his arable acres. He 
considered this locality as healthy as any in the 
Suwanee country. The old planter's home, with 
its hospitable doors ever open to the stranger, 
was embowered in live-oaks and other trees, 
from the branches of which the graceful festoons 
of Spanish moss waved in the soft air, telling of 
a warm, moist atmosphere. 

A large screw cotton-press and corn-cribs, 
with smoke-house and other plantation buildings, 
were conveniently grouped under the spreading 
branches of the protecting oaks. The estate 
produced cotton, corn, sweet potatoes, cattle, 
hogs, and poultry. Deer sometimes approached 
the enclosed fields, while the early morning call 
of the wild turke}^ came from the thickets of the 
hammock. In this retired part of Florida, 
cheered by the society of a devoted wife and 
four lovel}^ daughters, lived the kind-hearted 
gentleman who not only pressed upon us the 
comforts of his well-ordered house, but also in- 
sisted upon accompanying the paper canoe from 
his forest home to the sea. 

When gathered around the firesides of the 
backwoods people, the conversation generally 
runs into hunting stories, Indian reminiscences, 
and wild tales of what the pioneers suffered 
while establishing themselves in their forest 
homes. One event of startlins: interest had oc- 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 345 

curred in the Suwanee country a few weeks 
before the paper canoe entered its confines. 
Two hunters went by night to the woods to 
shoot deer by firelight. As they stalked about, 
with light-wood torches held above their heads, 
they came upon a herd of deer, which, being 
bewildered by the glare of the lights, made no 
attempt to escape. Sticking their torches in the 
ground, the hunters stretched themselves flat 
upon the grass, to hide their forms from the an- 
imals they hoped to kill at their leisure. One 
of the men w^as stationed beneath the branches 
of a large tree; the other was a few yards distant. 

Before the preconcerted signal for discharging 
their rifles could be given, the sound of a heavy 
body falling to the ground, and an accompanying 
smothered shriek, startled the hunter who was 
farthest from the tree. Starting up in alarm, he 
flew to the assistance of his friend, whose pros- 
trate form was covered by a large panther, which 
had pounced upon him from the overhanging 
limb of the great oak. It had been but the 
work of an instant for the powerful cougar to 
break with his strong jaws the neck of the poor 
backwoodsman. 

In this rare case of a panther {^Felis concoloi-) 
voluntarily attacking man, it will be noted by 
the student of natural history that the victim was 
lying upon the ground. Probably the animal 
would not have left his perch among the 



34^ VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

branches of the oak, where he was evidently 
waiting for the approach of the deer, if the up- 
right form of the man had been seen. Go to a 
southern bayou, which is rarely, if ever, visited 
by man, and where its saurian inhabitants have 
never been annoyed by him, — place your body 
in a recumbent position on the margin of the 
lagoon, and wait until some large alligator slowly 
rises to the surface of the water. He will eye 
you for a moment with evident curiosity, and 
will in some cases steadily approach you. 
When the monster reptile is within two or three 
rods of your position, rise slowly upon your feet 
to your full height, and the alligator of the south- 
ern states — the A. Alississippiensis — will, in 
nine cases out of ten, retire with precipitation. 

There are but few wild animals that will at- 
tack man willingly when face to face with him; 
they quail before his erect form. In every case 
of the animals of North America showing figlit 
to man, which has been investigated by me, the 
beasts have had no opportunity to escape, or 
have had their young to defend, or have been 
wounded by the hunter. 

It was nearly ten o'clock A. M. on Friday, 
March 26th, when our merry party left Old 
Town Hammock. This day was to see the end 
of the voyage of the paper canoe, for my tiny 
craft was to arrive at the waters of the great 
southern sea before midnight. The wife and 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 347 

daughters of our host, like true women of the for- 
est, offered no forebodings at the departure of 
the head of their household, but wished him, with 
cheerful looks, a pleasant voyage to the Gulf. 
The gulf port of Cedar Keys is but a few miles 
from the mouth of the Suwanee River. The 
railroad which terminates at Cedar Keys would, 
with its connection with other routes, carry the 
members of our party to their several homes. 

The bright day animated our spirits, as we 
swept swiftly down the river. The party in the 
shad-boat, now called " Adventurer," rowed mer- 
rily on with song and laughter, while I made an 
attempt to examine more closely the character 
of the water-moccasin — the Trigono cephalus- 
■piscivorus of Lacepede, — which I had more 
cause to fear than the alligators of the river. 
The water-moccasin is about two feet in lensfth, 
and has a circumference of five or six inches. 
The tail possesses a horny point about half an 
inch in length, which is harmless, though the 
Crackers and negroes stoutly affirm that when 
it strikes a tree the tree withers and dies, and 
when it enters the flesh of a man he is poisoned 
unto death. The color of the reptile is a dirty 
brown. Never found far from water, it is com- 
mon in the swamps, and is the terror of the rice- 
field negroes. The bite of the water-moccasin 
is exceedingly venomous, and it is considered 
more poisonous than that of the rattlesnake, which 



348 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

warns man of his approach by sounding his 
rattle. 

The moccasin does not, like the rattlesnake, 
wait to be attacked, but assumes the offensive 
whenever opportunity offers, striking with its 
fangs at every animated object in its vicinit3\ 
All other species of snakes flee from its presence. 
It is found as far north as the Peedee River of 
South Carolina, and is abundant in all low dis- 
tricts of the southern states. As the Suwanee 
had overflowed its banks below Old Town Ham- 
mock, the snakes had taken to the low limbs 
of the trees and to the tops of bushes, where 
they seemed to be sleeping in the warmth of the 
bright sunlight; but as I glided along the shore 
a few feet from their aerial beds, they discovered 
my presence, and dropped sluggishly into the 
water. It would not be an exaggeration to say 
that we passed thousands of these dangerous 
reptiles while descending the Suwanee. Rafts- 
men told me that when traversing lagoons in 
their log canoes, if a moccasin is met some dis- 
tance from land he will frequently enter the canoe 
for refuge or for rest, and instances have been 
known where the occupant has been so alarmed 
as to jump overboard and swim ashore in order 
to escape from this malignant reptile. 

The only place worthy of notice between Old 
Town Hammock and the gulf marshes is Clay 
Landing, on the left bank of the river, where 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 349 

Mrs. Tresper formerly lived in a very comfort- 
able house. Clay Landing was used during the 
Confederate w\ir as a place of deposit for block- 
ade goods. Archer, a railroad station, is but 
twenty miles distant, and to it over rough roads 
the contraband imports were hauled by mule 
teams, after having been landed from the fleet 
blockade-runner. 

As the sun was sinking to rest, and the tree- 
shadows grew long on the wide river's bosom, 
we tasted the saltness in the air as the briny 
breezes were wafted to us over the forests 
from the Gulf of Mexico. After darkness had 
cast its sombre mantle upon us, we left the 
" East Pass " entrance to the left, and our boats 
hurried on the rapidl}^ ebbing tide down the broad 
" West Pass " into the great marshes of the coast. 
An hour later we emerged from the dark forest 
into the smooth savannas. The freshness of the 
sea-air was exhilarating The stars were shining 
softly, and the ripple of the tide, the call of the 
heron, or the whirr of the frightened duck, and 
the leaping of fishes from the water, were the 
only sounds nature offered us. It was like enter- 
ing another world. In these lowlands, near the 
mouth of the river, there seemed to be but one 
place above the high-tide level. It was a little 
hammock, covered by a few trees, called Brad- 
ford's Island, and rose like an oasis in the desert. 
The swift tide hurried along its shores, and a 



350 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 

little farther on mingled the waters of the great 
wilderness with that of the sea. 

Our tired party landed on a shelly beach, and 
burned a grassy area to destroy sand-fleas. This 
done, some built a large camp-fire, while others 
spread blankets upon the ground. I drew the 
faithful sharer of my long voyage near a thicket 
of prickly-pears, and slept beside it for the last 
time, never thinking or dreaming that one year 
later I should approach the mouth of the Suwa- 
nee from the west, after a long voyage of twent}^- 
five hundred miles from the head of the Ohio 
River, and would again seek shelter on its banks. 
It was a night of sweet repose. The camp-fire 
dissipated the damps, and the long row made 
rest welcome. 

A glorious morning broke upon our party as 
we breakfasted under the shady palms of the 
island. Behind us rose the compact wall of 
dark green of the heavy forests, and along the 
coast, from east to west, as far as the e3^e could 
reach, were the brownish-green savanna-like 
lowlands, against which beat, in soft murmurs, 
the waves of that sea I had so longed to reach. 
From out the broad marshes arose low ham- 
mocks, green with pines and feathery with pal- 
metto-trees. Clouds of mist were rising, and 
while I watched them melt away in the warm 
beams of the morning sun, I thought they were 
like the dark doubts which curled themselves 



VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE. 



351 



about me so long ago in the cold St. Lawrence, 
now all melted by the joy of success. The snow- 
clad north was now behind me. The Maria 
Theresa danced in the shimmering waters of 
the great southern sea, and my heart was light, 
for my vo3'age was over. 




Jio. 14. The Voyage Ended. 



THE PAMPAS AND ANDES: 

A THOUSAND MILES' WALK ACROSS SOUTH AMERICA. 

By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. 

l2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.50. 

Notices of the Work, 

His Excellency Don Domingo F. Saimiento, President of the Argentine Confedera- 
tion, South America, in a letter written to the author during 1S77, says : " Your book of 
travels possesses the merit of reality in the faithful descriptions of scenes and customs as 
they existed at that time. 

" It has delighted me to follow you, step by step, by the side of the ancient and pic- 
turesque carts that cross the vast plains which stretch between the Parana River and the 
base of the Andes. As I have written about the same region, your book of travels be- 
comes a valuable reminder of those scenes ; and I shall have to consult your work in the 
future when I again write about those countries. " 



"Nathaniel H. Bishop, a mere lad of seventeen, who, prompted by a love of nature, 
starts off from his New England home, reaches the La Plata River, and coolly walks to 
Valparaiso, across Pampa and Cordillera, a distance of more than a thousand miles I It 
is not the mere fact of pedestrianism that will gain for Master Nathaniel Bishop a high 
place among travellers ; nor yet the fact of its having been done in the face of dangers 
and difficulties, — but that, throughout the walk, he has gone with his eyes open, and 
gives us a book, written at seventeen, that will make him renowned at seventy. It is 
teeming with information, both on social and natural subjects, and will take rank among 
books of scientific travel — the only ones worth inquiring for. One chapter from the 
book of an educated traveller (we don't mean the education of Oxford and Cambridge) is 
worth volumes of the stuff usually forming the staple of books of travels. And in this 
unpretending book of the Yankee boy — for its preface is signally of this sort — we have 
scores of such chapters. The title is not altogether appropriate. It is called ' A Thou- 
sand Miles' Walk across South America.' It is more than a mere walk. It is an explo- 
ration into the kingdom of Nature. 

" Sir Francis Head has gone over the same ground on horseback, and given us a good 
accoimt of it. But this quiet ' walk ' of the American boy ^ worth infinitely more than 
the ' Rough Rides ' of the British baronet. The one is co^»on talk and superficial 
observation. The other is a study that extends beneath the surface." — Captain Mayiie 
Reid. 

" Regarded simply as a piece of adventure, this were interesting, especially when told 
of in a tone of delightful modesty. But the book has other recommendations. This 
boy has an admirable eye for manners, customs, costumes, &c., to say nothing of his 
attention to natural history. The reader seems to travel by his side, and concludes the 
book with a sense of having himself trodden the Pampas, and mingled with their bar- 
barous inhabitants. So far as lun'iing- goes, this is the supreme merit of a book of trav- 
els. Let those explore who not only see for themselves, but have the rare ability to lend 
their eyes to others. Mr. Bishop is one of the few who can do this ; the graphic sim- 
plicity of his narrative is above praise. Meanwhile, his personal impression is very 
charming. The quiet patience with which he accepted all the hardships of his position — 
without the slightest parade of patience, however — is beyond measure attractive. But 
the brave youth goes on quietly enduring what was to be borne, and not ever allowing his 
observation to be dulled by the infelicities of his situation." — Boston Commo>iwealt/i, 



BOSTON: LEE & SHEPARD. 
NEW. YORK: CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. 



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